


The Edification Of Us

by MakerOfAnarchy



Category: Glee
Genre: Depression, Dominant/Submissive, M/M, Paddling, Recreational and Medicinal Use Of Prescribed Drugs, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Teacher/Student, slight breathplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-20
Updated: 2013-07-20
Packaged: 2017-12-20 19:19:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 26,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/890909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MakerOfAnarchy/pseuds/MakerOfAnarchy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[edification: improvement, education]</p><p>They don't meet the normal way. They meet because Blaine is desperate, high, lonely. He goes looking for someone to help, and he finds Sir, someone willing to do that and more for him, but only from a distance. Until suddenly that distance is a lot less than they'd suspected, and they have to learn to be together without breaking the rules.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Kurt-Blaine Reversebang on Tumblr and LJ.
> 
> Music for this chapter: The Broken Ones by Dia Frampton, The End by Kings Of Leon, Heartlines - Acoustic by Florence & The Machine, Just One Yesterday by Fall Out Boy feat. Foxes, Bless You (For The Good That's In You) by Delta Rae

He meets _Sir_ the second week of May, the fifth week he’s been bed ridden. At this point he’s been out of school for two months, the first week of those two leaving permanent scars on him, ones he can’t shake. There’s a cast on his leg and a gaping cut along his back, with bandages around his ribcage and cuts everywhere, a couple he put there himself.

Blaine lays on his bed, one hand perusing the depths of the internet and the other pushed down his boxers, palming his dick as he tries to find something that interests him, something to help take the edge off.

The cuts on his arms are throbbing and his back aches, somewhere in the back of his mind he knows it _aches_ , but he wouldn’t know, he can’t feel anything.

His head is fuzzy and he can really hardly focus on the screen in front of him but that’s okay, this is just something quick.

He finally clicks on a video and when it starts to play Blaine is immediately entranced, because it’s something he’s never seen before. There’s a boy, a young boy, on his knees, hands tied to posts in front of him. His mouth is bound and there’s rope around his thighs, red indents forming from having been there a long time.

There’s a shadow and then a man, a much _older_ man walks out, holding something. And it’s with a cruel grin and some filthy _, filthy_ words that send a spark of pleasure to Blaine’s groin, that he swings his arm, hitting that boy’s ass. The boy jerks almost imperceptibly, moaning around the gag in his mouth, and the man hits him again.

And again and again, all while letting disgusting, degrading, ( _wonderful,_ Blaine thinks, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the head of his dick) words fall from his mouth as he grins like he’s enjoying it, enjoying taking pleasure from somebody else.

The paddling doesn’t go on for long before the camera switches and the man now has his cock buried in the boy’s ass, pounding into him with a hand gripping the younger one’s hair. All the while he calls the boy dirty things like _my slut_ , ** _my_** whore in a possessive tone that makes Blaine’s toes curl. The boy nods along to everything, clenching his eyes shut and agreeing, nodding when the man bends over and whispers into his ear, “Yeah? You’re mine, huh? That all you want? To be _mine_? To be _my_ bitch?”

And the boy, the boy just _takes_ it, breathing out through his nose and moaning like this is all he wants to do for the rest of his life. His expression is one of utter bliss, sweat pouring from his hairline and face red from exertion, saliva dribbling out of his mouth.

By now Blaine is on his knees and panting, fist stuck in his mouth to keep quiet as he jacks himself, squeezing periodically and smearing pre-cum around when he has the chance.

Logically he knows that the reason he hasn’t come yet is because he’s so hopped up on pain meds his pleasure is hardly registering to his body, but he can’t bring himself to care because it still feels so good.

His pleasure ratchets up when he sees tears leaking from the corners of the boys eyes as the man buries himself to the hilt in the boys ass and coming, hips rocking gently.

However, it’s to the sight of the man pulling out and smacking the boys ass one more time before walking away and just _leaving_ the boy there, come leaking out of his ass and wrists still tied to the post that Blaine finally, _finally_ comes, gasping for air.

He gently lowers himself to his bed, body sensitive and tingling. Come has painted his pillow case and he sluggishly rips it off, balling it up and throwing it somewhere before collapsing onto his pillows, closing his laptop.

It’s four am and Blaine finally falls asleep, sated for now.

-

The next night Blaine has a clear head and trembling hands as he scrolls through a porn site. He’s looking for that video, the one with the owned boy and the ruthless man.

He finally clicks “ _Jailbait boy gets owned by hung Dominant”_ and is taken to the same video from last night. He doesn’t get let himself get too caught up in it, because his cock is already hardening just thinking about it, but instead he scrolls down to the tags.

Blaine has been on enough porn sites to know everything is absurdly tagged, but that it will eventually lead him to what he wants. He clicks on the first tag, “BDSM”, and lets it take him to the millions of other porn videos tagged with it. He skips anything with a vagina, or the ones with multiple people, just clicks on the first one that actually interests him.

It’s an hour of perusing the videos and stroking his cock before he comes, spilling over his hand with a gasp and closing his eyes against the shame.

-

Blaine, at this point, understands it’s becoming some type of weird obsession, but he doesn’t let himself think about it.

Instead he spends another night on the internet, looking up “BDSM” and what it is, what it means. He finds a lot of blogs and resources, things he doesn’t understand but _god_ , does he want to.

It sounds like something he wants to be a part of, something he wants to learn.

Something he wants to be taught.

So he signs up. He signs up on websites that he really shouldn’t be, websites that don’t ask for much besides a credit card, which he has.  (His parents won’t care, they don’t even look at the bill anymore.)

He reads a lot of the posts on a forum, always looking and lurking but never making himself known.

Until two days later, when everything feels tight, and all the bruises and scars are aching and on fire. His mother had just left his room after changing his cast and muttering to herself (“Why did this have to happen before the summer, this is not the fucking time.”) harsh things that he can’t block out and can’t avoid. She finally stands up and gives him a tight smile, kissing his forehead and backing out of the room before closing the door with a solemn expression.

It’s really unfair, how she can make him feel like shit without even knowing, even when she’s not trying to.

So he reaches over to his nightstand and pulls out his pills again, the ones his doctor gave him to use at his own caution, the ones that will make it feel a bit better. And when it kicks in, he reaches under his bed for his scissors and makes a few more cuts, a few more tears in his skin that feel different from the ones he _hadn’t_ put there.

Blaine reaches for his laptop and, with a fuzzy brain and clouded vision, he puts it out there, lets everyone know that he’s in pain, and he’s alone.

_“posted by bda95 at 1:25 am, ct_

**_Is there anybody who would like to help_ **

_I have a lot on my shoulders and I feel like I’m going to collapse under the weight of my own self-loathing at anytime. ”_

And he hits post, closing his eyes and hoping someone will answer his plea.

He’ll regret it in the morning when he has coherent and logical thinking back again, but for now he just moves to another tab, looking for something to get him off.

-

The notification of an email startles him out of his pleasured reverie, hand gliding over his cock smooth and quick. He groans but looks at it anyways, squinting at his screen to read the words. It’s telling him that he has a chat request from _kh-s84_ , with a little message already there.

“ _Hello, bda95. I saw your post and I would like to help you. Are you still around?”_

Blaine groans, hand stilling on his cock. He can almost taste it, he’s about to have what he wants.  He shakily types out his message, biting his tongue.

“ _yes I am.”_

He waits a moment before sending another message, more hesitant now. “ _how…how can you help me?”_

It takes a moment but soon _kh-s84_ responds with, “ _Are you touching yourself?”_

**From bda95:**

_I was._

**From kh-s84** _:_

_Stroke yourself._

**From bda95:**

_Okay_ …

The reply is instantaneous, just:

_Sir. You will call me Sir._

The name makes him moan into his fist, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he comes, moaning into his hand.

Blaine suddenly feels _disgusting._ It’s more than the drying sweat and come; it’s a shameful feeling in the pit of his stomach, pushing itself up his esophagus, threatening to make him puke.

Blaine chickens out and leaves the chat, shutting down his laptop and going to sleep.

-

Blaine spends all day fretting over what he did.

He had let a stranger _dominate_ him _online_ , while _high._ The guy could have been a pervert, he could have been trying to take advantage of his vulnerability.

However, what worries him the most is how he’d reacted to Blaine just suddenly logging off. He knows that _kh-s84_ had no real claim over him,but Blaine still feels bad for just leaving abruptly.

The guilt is what leads him to opening up his laptop with the intent to go back to the chat and apologize, to grovel if he has to.

Instead he finds an email already waiting from him from _kh-s84@gmail.com_. He’s afraid to click it but Blaine knows, he knows that when he put it out there that he was calling for anybody, and he found someone. He can’t just back out now, no matter how temporary and tentative.

And he has to admit, knowing that someone had answered his plea had made his heart clench and his back throb, because _god_ , someone probably millions of miles away maybe cares about him.

“ _Dear bda95,_

_Last night, I chatted with you very, very briefly. I_ __ _answered your post about needing a dom, and I asked to help you._

_However, you left the chat before I could actually help you, or at least know if I already had._

_Do you know how that makes me feel? Not only as a dom, but as a person. As a dom, my job is to help my sub (in this case, **you** ) get through whatever they’re feeling in the best way I know how. I have years of domming experience in my back pocket, and never once have I had a sub safeword with me. You, signing out randomly was equivalent to safewording in my book, and I now feel as if I have done something wrong, and I don’t know what it is nor how to fix it. As a person, with my worrywart nature, you leaving has me worrying and wondering: Are you okay? Do I need to call the police? Is there anything I can do to help? _

_Was it something I did? Was having you call me “Sir” too much? If so, you **need** to tell me. The most important aspect of a D/s relationship – any relationship, really – is communication. We had a very short, two minute claim, but I’d very much like to think that the same rules applied. _

_Goodbye, bda95. I really hope to hear from you soon. “_

Blaine slouches back, mind reeling. He feels a lot right now, but mainly he has curiosity sitting at the base of his mind. There’s so much he does not know, there’s so much to learn.

Blaine wonders if he’ll ever learn, but he knows that this is not the way. He has to wait, has to wait a few years until he’s out on his own and maybe happy.

He responds, not wanting this man that came to him when things were low to feel like he did something wrong when really Blaine is just scared.

“ _kh-s84,_

_I am sincerely sorry for any worry I may have caused you last night. It was not my intention and I know now not to do it again._

_The truth is, I asked for a Dom because I was feeling at my lowest, even though I always feel like I’m at my lowest. I’ve recently discovered the vivid world of BDSM and I thought that maybe a Dom is what I needed to help bring me back up. I did it in a moment of drugged, painful weakness, and yes, I understand how irresponsible it was of me._

_Please do not think it was your fault. I came, when you told me to call you “Sir”, and I thought you wouldn’t like that. I’ve never done this before, and I was afraid and cowardly in the face of punishment. (I realize now, with a clear mind, that this is all ridiculous of me to think, but I was simply scared.)_

_I’m sorry, once again. I’m just an impulsive idiot with too many problems, and I am regretful for bringing you into all of this._

_Sincerely, bda95.”_

It’s then that his mother comes in to check his cast, so he closes his laptop and watches her peer over it with detached interest.

“Is there anything I can get you, sweetie?”

Blaine swallows, clearing his throat. “No…no thanks mom.”

She sits at the edge of the bed, hand resting protectively over his ankle. It’s the first time she’s shown such a motherly gesture in a very long time and he trembles with it, wanting a hug and knowing he won’t get one.

His back throbs.

“Blaine…I was thinking…do you think you need a therapist?”

Blaine rolls his eyes away, not wanting to have this conversation. “I’m fine.”

“Blaine,” He looks up at her sharp tone, “Don’t lie to me. I know your father and I haven’t always shown it but we’re _on your side._ We didn’t need this anymore than you did.”

Blaine laughs bitterly, shifting his ankle away from her hand. Of fucking course, she’s upset because in her mind this is something that has happened _to_ their family, something that will mar their reputation.

He’s just one big scar, isn’t he?

“Could you please leave, mom?” He clenches his jaw and refuses to look at her when she gets up and closes his door with a gentle _click_ _._

He takes a couple of deep breaths, gripping his forearm and throwing his head back. When he feels calm again he reaches over to his laptop, looking for an email from _kh-s84_ but not expecting one.

He gets one.

“ _bda95,_

_First, I should say that I’m so relieved you’re okay. Something happening to you on my watch is not in my books._

_Also, next time please just tell me if something is wrong or if there’s something I can change._

_I’m not upset, and I wasn’t ever._

_Not to be forward, but please feel free to email me at anytime. No contract, no pressure. I’d just like to know you, bda95_ _, if you’d like that_ _._

_kh-s84”_

Blaine blinks in surprise, rubbing his neck. He’d expected _kh-s84_ to kick him to the curb after he’d found that he was okay.

Blaine bites his lip and tries to not get his hopes up, his fingers flying over the keys as he eagerly tells him _yes, yes, of course I would_.

Blaine wouldn’t call it a summer romance, because it’s really so much more than that, but it’s definitely _something._

\---

_Sir_ turns out to be Kurt. Kurt is twenty-eight, a Broadway performer with a teaching degree _(“It’s a long story but I had been told I needed something to ‘fall back on’,” Kurt had told him with an eye roll and a tiny smile_ ) and is the kindest, most compassionate and understanding person that Blaine has _ever_ met.

They talk to each other all summer and every day, every time Kurt says something sweet, or something funny or something so astoundingly deep Blaine falls a little more in love. They talk about anything and everything. Blaine tells Kurt more than he’s ever told anyone, lets himself be true to himself, for Kurt.

Blaine tells him about what happened at his old school, how he was hurt so badly and tells him about all the scars that were left because of it. He tells Kurt about his family, and about how his injuries seem to be tearing them apart.

And Kurt asks exactly what was happening that night when Blaine had posted so desperately on the forum, high. Kurt asks him why he felt he needed to be buzzed that night and Blaine says that it’s because everything gets to be too much sometimes.

Kurt just tells him to be careful, and that he can always come to him.

Blaine only smiles, wiping at his eyes though Kurt will never know Blaine had been sobbing at his computer because Kurt makes him feel too much, all the time.

\---

The first time they Skype is after a Friday night, Blaine coming back from an excruciatingly painful dinner with his parents.

Blaine is nervous, but not nervous enough to not do it. He’s been waiting for this moment, this moment when he’ll actually see Kurt, even if he won’t be able to actually touch him. But he’ll finally be able to put a face to a previously faceless image, and that thought alone is enough to make Blaine accept the video chat request.

And Kurt is literally everything he could have hoped for.  For a moment they just stare at each other, and Blaine wants to – Blaine wants to touch so, so badly. Everything about him is gorgeous, from his swept hair to his sweet, pink lips that are smiling, smiling right at Blaine.

“You’re – wow. _Kurt_.”

“Blaine,” Kurt breathes out and it’s that one breathless word that has Blaine crying, tears falling from his eyes as he presses his hand to his mouth to quell the sobs.

“Sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just,” Blaine hiccups, “today has been so _stressful_ , but it’s you, it’s _you_ and I’m just happy, for once.”

“Oh Blaine. You always deserve to be happy.”

They sit in silence, taking everything in until Kurt looks him in the eye and runs his hand through his hair, a smile on his face like he’s happy to be where he is. Blaine aches.

But this time, it’s a good ache. It’s the ache that Kurt brings to him with that smile that makes him want to crawl through the screen and just fall asleep right next to him, happy.

Happy.

He’s happy. Right now, looking at Kurt who is _miles_ and _miles_ away is making him so happy he could scream. He wants this feeling to last.

“God, this is perfect,” Kurt laughs out, looking back at Blaine with shiny eyes. “This is utterly perfect. _You’re_ perfect, Blaine.”

Blaine blushes and looks down, smiling at his hands in his lap. “Not as perfect as you, Sir.” The title rolls off his lips like it belongs there. He shivers.

He hears Kurt inhale and then he looks up and notices the way Kurt is clutching his thigh.

“While…” Kurt clears his throat, sits up and jostles the laptop a little, “while we’re here, and before we go any further, we should establish some boundaries for…” Kurt waves a hand, smiles at Blaine, “this.”

“Okay, Sir,” Blaine says, and sits himself up higher. He wants to be good and listen to Kurt.

“Does this feel alright to you?” Kurt’s eyes are concerned as he gestures between them again. “Right now, talking about this, you call me Sir – how does it make you feel? How…how far are you willing to go, like this?”

Blaine furrows his eyebrows, tilts his head, “What do you mean, Sir? Would this not just be…Skype sex?”

Kurt chuckles gently, looking down at his comforter. “Blaine, I don’t think of scenes with my subs as _just sex_. Ever. It’s about a lot more than that, and it doesn’t have to have anything to do with that. This is not _any_ different.”

Kurt leans a bit closer, and Blaine gets caught up in his eyes, brightened by the light and his spirit. “You…you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. You don’t have to get naked, you don’t have to see me naked, whatever. I can try my hand at talking you into subspace even,” Kurt leans back with a smirk, “I’ve heard my dirty talk is quite amazing.”

Blaine laughs, blushing up to his roots. When Kurt says it, it all sounds a bit daunting. What if he’s not good enough for Kurt? What if Kurt doesn’t enjoy his body? What if his scars push Kurt away?

“And I promise I will love anything you give to me, Blaine,” He looks up, catches his eye and flashes Kurt a nervous smile to match his reassuring one. His stomach flutters.

“I think…I think I want it all, Sir,” Blaine says, and looks up at Kurt, trying to convey that he’s _scared_ but Kurt makes him a little less scared.

“Explain for me what you don’t want, Blaine,” And Kurt is so patient, so genuinely caring that Blaine has to close his eyes, clutch his stomach and breathe through his nose. Kurt makes him so happy.

“I want anything with you, for you, Sir,” Blaine finds himself saying, and god it’s true.

“You’re sweet,” Blaine catches the fond look Kurt gives him. “But I really do need you to set your hard limits. I know you say everything but _my_ everything could be very different from _your_ everything.”

Blaine sits back, thinks. He hasn’t done this before but he’s watched a lot of videos and read a lot of posts. He thinks he genuinely does want to try everything at least once, but Kurt isn’t asking for that, at least not yet.

“Um…just, don’t – don’t mention the fact that my parents are downstairs, like ever, okay?” Blaine shakes his head against the self-hatred, looks away from Kurt’s caring eyes. “Please do not call me…worthless. Or a slut. Please.”

“You know  I don’t think those things about you, Blaine,” Kurt says, and Blaine looks back to him, watches him lean closer to the screen, “and you know they’re not true.”

“I know I’m not a slut…” even if he does feel a bit disgusting sometimes. Like too many people have touched him, too many people have soiled and sullied things he didn’t know could be.

“And you’re not worthless either,” Kurt says, and the finality rings in the air.

“I know…” he opens his eyes, catches Kurt’s and tries to tell him that he’s on his way to maybe believing it.

\--

“ _God_ , you’re so fucking gorgeous, Blaine,” Kurt pants, and Blaine moans into the cloth of his tie, watching Kurt stroke himself.

“Add another finger, Blaine,” Kurt says and Blaine nods, spreading his legs a bit wider and adding the third one.

“Does that feel good, Blaine?” Kurt purrs at him and Blaine has to nod, bucking his hips against the sting. “Stretched around practically nothing, no release for your hard cock?”

Blaine groans, wishes he could lick up the spit dripping from his mouth but that somehow makes this that much more erotic. He pumps his fingers a little bit faster, making sure to brush his prostate. His arm hurts from how long Kurt has had him draw this out, finger after finger and so slow.

“Nod once for green, twice for yellow and three times for red,” Kurt breathes out, and the sounds coming from through the computer screen slow down.

Blaine gives a jerky nod, works his hips up and onto his fingers, spread so wide he knows there isn’t a thing Kurt can’t see and god he _loves_ it like that. Like this.

“Take your fingers out,” Blaine obeys, whining at the loss, “spread your legs a little wider for me,” Blaine obeys again, panting into the gag. For a moment Kurt just watches him as he pumps his own cock, barely making a sound as he does. Blaine’s pleasure doesn’t descend from the high place it’s been at for so long, doesn’t dip even a little as he watches Kurt watch him.

Kurt’s fist moves a little faster and he says, “Touch yourself, I want to see you come for me, darling.”

Blaine wraps his hand around his cock and tugs, twists the head between his fingers and works himself up to it. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve laid eyes on, Blaine,” Kurt says, voice rising higher and higher as he comes over his fist.

Blaine moans into the gag and follows after, wave after wave of pleasure rolling down his spine and leaving him sated.  

 --

Blaine wants to say that it’s enough, that seeing Kurt is enough.  But the truth is, when his mother and father are downstairs yelling about one thing or the other, it’s not enough. Those are the days when he feels worthless.

He wants to _touch_ Kurt, he wants Kurt to make him feel something other than the self-hatred that beats itself into his chest whenever downstairs they say something particularly hateful to each other. He wants Kurt to tie him down, take away his senses because a lot of the time he feels like he doesn’t even deserves to be alive. He swallows pills when the throbbing is a little too much and falls asleep to them still yelling.

And there are other times, when he sits on his bed and makes another scar for everything they yelled at him as they beat him to the ground, for every cruel word that they made true when they impressed their hatred into his heart

Stroking himself on top of his bed to filthy videos, getting off to things that make him ache for something he can’t have, and then feeling _sick_ with himself as he spills over his fist.

Because he is truly, utterly disgusting, looking for something that should be for adults and adults only, something that he still doesn’t quite understand.

So, just seeing Kurt is not enough because when he feels all of those things, there’s no one around to take the blade or the pills away because no one actually _cares._

Besides Kurt, and sometimes it feels like Kurt isn’t even real.

\---

His reflection is nice, despite all the ugly things he’s currently feeling. He looks like a proper schoolboy, on the outside, one without scars and one without a twisted need deep in his belly for something he can’t have. He closes his eyes and wraps his arms around himself, breathing deeply through his nose.

Blaine knows what he needs. He needs Sir, _his_ Sir, his Kurt.

For a second, just a brief second he imagines him behind him, wrapping his arms around him and kissing the back of his head, reassuring him because no one else will, because he’s the only one that ever would. Blaine doesn’t want to feel _ashamed_ , but he can’t help it, he does. But he can’t do this alone, he needs somebody even if that somebody is someone he’s just made up, someone to keep him occupied, someone he misses even though he’s never met them.

Blaine doesn’t think he can walk into a new school alone, nearly defenseless, but he will because he has too. But he can imagine, and he can hope that there will be someone there for him, someone who cares if his arms ache that day.

His sleeves are long – always long and his pants are loose because it – it hurts if anything is too tight. Besides that tie around his neck, no; he wants to tighten the tie farther and farther around his neck going, going until someone tells him to stop, until Kurt, _Kurt_ with his strong hands and kind eyes and muscled arms brings him away from the edge.

With a sigh he lets the image drop away from his mind, picking up his bag and glancing at his reflection to make sure that nothing is out of place, before walking down the stairs of a still quiet house and leaving without a goodbye.

\---

Dalton is a large place, Blaine soon finds out. There are a lot of corridors and a lot of art pieces and a lot of history, but above it all there are a lot of _students_ , masses of teenage bodies in one place at any given time.

It’s a little too much for Blaine, and he clenches his eyes as he stands with his back to a wall, schedule gripped tightly in his hand. Usually, they told him, he would have been assigned someone to show him the ropes, but things were just so _busy_ today, and he’d be _fine_ , they said.

He’s starting to hyperventilate, his chest constricting tightly, and the tie feels loose now, so he brings a hand up and holds it to his throat, trying to breathe through his nose. He is in a mostly secluded area so no one finds him and no one would think to come looking for him because who does he know? Who would care?

_You’re okay, Blaine_. It’s on repeat in his mind _you’re okay, you’re okay, you’ll_ **be** _okay._

Blaine wrenches his eyes open when the bell rings and students start rushing from one place to another and he forces himself away from the wall, straightening his jacket and looking at his schedule to find his room again.

221B. Okay. He can do this.

Find the classroom, slip in, give the teacher his information, find a seat and say nothing unless required. Simple. He can do this.

\---

It’s five to ten minutes of wandering but soon enough Blaine’s standing in front of 221. He stands outside the door, pepping himself for the impending embarrassment at being nearly fifteen minutes late.

He presses a trembling hand to his heart, slowly traveling up to his throat, squeezing at the base slightly. His eyes close and he’s pretending, once again, that there’s someone behind him, someone telling him that he’s good, he’s going to be fine, that _it’ll be okay_. Someone who means it, someone who believes in the words they’re whispering in his ear.

With one last deep breath he walks in, expecting the usual, eyes on him, voices lowering, but instead there is nothing but a lot of empty desks, not a student in sight. He looks around for a moment, eyebrows furrowed, and breaths starting to layer over each other.

A million options race through his mind, all of them centering on the fact that he’s _stupid_ , this is all _wrong_.

“Um, hello?” He doesn’t get very far in his panic before there’s a voice calling out to him, pulling him out of his self-doubt, for just a moment.

And he looks up, and spins around, and meets the eyes that will always, _always_ ,make him ache.

-

Blaine thinks this is the type of moment that authors describe – where it really feels like you’re suspended in space.

His breath is short, shorter than it was, and now everything feels too tight on his body. He’s standing there, looking into Kurt’s eyes and he doesn’t have one fucking word.

Kurt is finally here, Kurt is _here_ , and Blaine is utterly choked.

His grip loosens slowly on his bag and it hits the ground with a thud but Blaine can’t find anything in him to care enough.

And Kurt, god, Kurt is just staring, not saying a word or moving an inch. Staring at _him_ and this time there’s no medium between them. He could reach out and _touch_ if he wanted to, and god does he want to.

He sees it when it registers in Kurt’s eyes – he blinks multiple times and straightens his back, fixing his tie.

“Can I help you? Do you have the wrong class?”

Blaine blinks and feels tears coming on because it feels so _right_ , hearing Kurt’s voice in real life. “ _Kurt_.”

It’s all he can actually vocalize, and he finds himself taking steps forward, hand twitching upwards as he reaches for Kurt. He wants to pull him in and fucking _smell_ him, bury himself inside of Kurt and never come out.

“Stop. Tell me your class so I can help you find it,” At this Blaine finally looks up at Kurt and he stops moving towards him, startled by the look in his eyes.

It’s familiar to Blaine but at the same time it’s not. Kurt’s whole face has hardened, his eyes and face shifting into a mode Blaine can only refer to as _Sir_ , and Blaine wants to kneel, he wants to kneel right there on the dirty classroom floor.

But it’s the utter _fear_ in Kurt’s eyes that stops Blaine from throwing himself at Kurt’s feet, and has him shakily handing over his schedule. He watches Kurt scan the page, chewing on his bottom lip before looking up to the side and motioning Blaine to follow him.

Blaine does, picking up his bag and shuffling over to a door on the side of Kurt’s room and waiting as Kurt unlocks it and gestures him in. Blaine looks at all the other kids who have looked up at the interruption and feels sick again, because this day just keeps getting worse and worse.

“My room is, ah – 221A. It’s okay. Common mistake. They should really label everything. Have a good day.”

And Kurt is finally looking Blaine in the eye, saying a lot with a glance. His eyes are wide and glistening, and they are _so_ scared and Blaine doesn’t understand a lot, but for now, he understands this:

_Just let it be. Please._

“Thanks Mr. Hummel.”

\--

The rest of Blaine’s day is uneventful. He gets to every class late because he doesn’t know where anything is, but all the teachers brush it off with a smile.

He doesn’t learn much, even though they definitely teach. His thoughts are focused on Kurt, even more so than usual, but he can’t bring his brain to actually jot down notes when Kurt, _Sir_ , is currently in the same building as him.

It’s unfathomable to Blaine, that after a summer of _want_ , a summer of raw _need_ that he could very well have Kurt.

But Kurt had made it clear with his eyes, telling him to go to class and leave it alone because there was nothing they could do. Blaine doesn’t want to wait, though. Kurt is _here_ , Kurt can finally be his and Blaine can’t go another day not knowing, six hours was torture enough.

And god, Blaine is itching for Kurt to have him, for Kurt to finally do all the filthy things he’s said he would to him, for Kurt to finally mark his body like they’ve each been _craving_ and Blaine shifts in his seat, making his decision.

Blaine stands in front of 221 _A_ , takes a deep breath and tries the handle. It’s unlocked, and he walks in to find Kurt sitting at his desk, glasses perched on his nose as he grades papers. Blaine stands in the doorway for a second, watching as Kurt marks papers, going through them with determination. Blaine almost sighs – looking at Kurt in person is much more fulfilling than staring at him through a screen and only _wishing_ he could touch.

Now, Blaine takes a step in and closes the door, watching as Kurt looks up at the sound.Blaine smiles tentatively when their eyes meet, locking the door. Kurt stands up, and Blaine cannot, he _cannot_ stop himself from rushing forward, locking his arms around Kurt as tears well up in his eyes.

God, Blaine has _never_ felt so good. Pressing his body to Kurt is better than he imagined and he just longs for all the layers to _dissipate,_ foranything separating their bodies to disappear so Blaine can wrap himself around Kurt.

It’s only then that Blaine realizes that Kurt is not hugging him back; in fact, Kurt is tensed in his arms, hands stiff at his sides. Blaine frowns and runs a hand up Kurt’s back, relishing in the feel of muscle beneath his fingers.

Kurt starts resisting, sliding his hands up and to Blaine’s shoulders, gently moving him away from him. “Blaine, this is inappropriate.”

Blaine frowns and takes a step closer because he doesn’t understand, why is Kurt retreating from him? He reaches out a hand, but Kurt backs out of his way.

“Kurt, please, I don’t understand,” Blaine swallows against the tears because everything is feeling dark again. He grabs his forearm and brings it across his stomach, hardly able to breathe.

Kurt is _leaving_ him.

“We can’t do this Blaine, not here – “

Blaine jumps at the chance, reaching out to Kurt again and feeling like a child when he’s rejected. “I _know_ , I know. Let’s just, go, okay? And we can talk about it just – stop running from me, please.”

Blaine feels like all of the wounds Kurt has closed, like everything he has helped heal is becoming undone. His body is itching, itching to drop to the floor and beg for his Sir’s mercy, because Blaine is _so sorry_ for whatever he’s done. He follows his instincts, because maybe that is what Sir wants. He drops his bag and lowers himself to his knees, spreading his thighs and bowing his back, finally letting his tears fall.

“Sir, please. Please take me home,” And when Blaine says home Blaine means, _home_ , with Kurt. He wants to be laid out under Kurt’s hand, panting into his arm as Kurt decides where he wants it to go tonight, knowing they will start over tomorrow. Blaine wants to wake up with Kurt’s strong arm around him, squeezing against his waist as he nuzzles into his hair.

Blaine wants it all – Blaine thought he had it all, but it is slipping away, slipping away so fast Blaine can hardly touch it.

“No, -- fuck, Blaine,” Kurt doesn’t sound like he knows what to do, but at this point Blaine would take anything, he would take _anything_ from Kurt.

“Okay, okay,” Blaine sees Kurt’s slacks in his line of sight, and suddenly his head is being tilted upwards, his eyes going up to the ceiling.

“Blaine, look at me,” Blaine does, and he’s startled by the blue, startled by Kurt’s face directly in front of his.

“Blaine, I need you to come back to me. You’re drifting, but I need you here. If you insist on talking about this we will _talk_ , but you have to _be here._ Come back to me. “

Blaine blinks, trying to register Kurt’s words. When it finally hits he scrambles up, tears flowing more freely now.

“I just…I don’t know what you want from me…” Blaine knows he sounds helpless, he sounds lost, but he _is_ lost. Kurt is sending him mixed signals and Blaine’s picking up on them all and he can’t decipher what Kurt wants.

Blaine knows what he wants. He wants to be Kurt’s, completely and irrevocably.

“I know but I don’t _want_ anything – “ Blaine sucks in a sharp breath, scrambling for his bag because Kurt has said it, this is over.

Kurt does not want him, and Blaine won’t push. He’s hyperventilating now, everything dizzy. His whole body is aching right now, including his head and now he wants to be at home, tucked into his bed so he can go back to crying alone.

“Fuck! Blaine, listen to me,” Kurt yanks him around by the shoulder, making his bag drop to the floor, and suddenly Blaine is being pushed against the whiteboard, his chest against Kurt’s.  

“I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant, calm down, please,” The feeling of Kurt pressed to him is making everything slow down, making everything move in slow motion.

“Just breathe. Match your breaths to mine.” Blaine obeys, sucking in deeps breaths in time to Kurt’s. Kurt is solid against him, restricting his breath in the good way, assuring him that Kurt is there, for no matter how long he may need.

Kurt pulls back after a minute, and Blaine looks up at him, nuzzling against the hand stroking his cheek. Kurt looks to be contemplating something, his nose pinched up. Blaine wants to kiss his nose, tell him he’s sorry for making him feel bad.

“Blaine, _god_ , Blaine,” Kurt starts, sucking in a breath. “You’re the most gorgeous, sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.” Kurt’s arms wrap around his waist, his back still to the whiteboard, but Blaine brings his arms up around Kurt’s neck anyways, and does not complain. He’s lucky, right now. Kurt is saying these wonderful things to him and Blaine wants to revel in the words Kurt is whispering to him.

“Of course I want you,” Kurt’s lips brush across his forehead and Blaine closes his eyes, feeling as if his body is about to sink right into Kurt’s.

“Then take me home,” Blaine can’t help but say it. That’s all he wants right now, to be with Kurt. This is a messy, terrifying situation but just laying with Kurt would make everything better.

Kurt inhales sharply again, his lips thinning against Blaine’s forehead. They’re quiet for a moment and Blaine dares to let himself hope, let his world build itself up and up and –

“We _can’t_ ,” Kurt is pulling away from him, taking his whole world with him and Blaine slumps against the whiteboard, already crying again. He closes his eyes. He’s going to go home, open any ice cream he has and weep until he upheaves his own heart.

“Hey, none of that,” Kurt rests a hand on Blaine’s neck, stroking the tendons there. “You _know_ we can’t.”

“Please?” Blaine will beg. He will.

“No. You know that,” Kurt is stern, looking at him with fondness in his eyes and Blaine wants to scream because he wants it too, of course he does.

“However, this is what’s going to happen,” Blaine looks up, traitorous hope settling at the pit of his stomach.

Kurt smiles at him, still stroking his neck. “You’re going to go home, okay? I want you to eat something, anything you want, and I want you to finish your homework. I know they gave you some, it’s Dalton.” Blaine smiles because it’s funny, and Kurt is smiling because Blaine is smiling and if this isn’t the most unusual cycle of things.

“Do whatever chores you have for your parents, and then do whatever you want. Go to bed at some reasonable time. Please. For me.”

_For you._ Blaine can do anything for Kurt, they both know that.

“And then tomorrow, I want you to come in a little early, and help me set up for the day, okay? And we’ll just talk, like we usually do. Everything will be fine. This is not…this is not something we could have accounted for, okay.”

“Please don’t let this get to you, Blaine,” Blaine feels a hand stroke across his wrist and Blaine feels his dick throb and his heart beat harder at the touch to his cuts. “I know this is hard and not what we were expecting, but we have to try. I will do my best to find us both some type of balance because Blaine, I can’t let you go, but don’t worry about that, okay? I just need you to try. ”

Blaine can’t express how good it feels, how grounded he feels to have something to follow, something Sir has told him to do. He’s going to follow every order to the dime, and he’s going to feel good while he does it.

“We have to be very careful, alright?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Never call me that where people can hear you, okay?” Blaine nods, looking away.

“I assume this means no Skype…”

“You can always text or call me if you need anything, but no, I don’t think it’s best for either of us if we Skype each other,” Kurt squeezes the side of his neck, and Blaine feels the smile directed at him.

Blaine nods, contemplates asking it for a second but he needs to know, he needs to know now. “Does this mean I have permission to touch myself? When,” he lowers his voice, “when you don’t know, can I come?”

“Yes, Blaine. But…I would prefer it if you texted or called me before you try anything like gagging yourself, alright? Regular orgasms are fine, but if you feel the need to be dominated, well. I find that a valid excuse for needing to call me, alright?”

“Will I not get to see you outside of school at all?”

“You’ll see me before and after, if you like. I told you I can’t let you go, not completely.” And Kurt smiles at him, smiles at him with an assurance that Blaine feels in his bones.

Blaine smiles up at Kurt gently, trying to blink away his tears. He’s going to stop crying – and he’s going to do as Kurt has asked.

He will do anything Kurt asks.

\---

Blaine knocks on Kurt’s classroom door tentatively, trying to not look suspicious, even if he couldn’t help the anxious way he kept shifting. He had missed Kurt, and he was aching to get inside where Kurt was and wrap his arms around him.

Blaine finds the door unlocked when there is no answer and he finds Kurt at his desk, foot tapping at the floor in what Blaine can only deem a nervous twitch. Besides that little tick Kurt is a determined statue, pouring over papers and marking them resolutely.

Blaine admires his outfit for the day, an emerald, collared shirt stretching over his chest and bringing out the blond highlights in his hair, paired with a midnight colored tie.

Kurt is gorgeous, Kurt is, “Sir.” He says it out loud because Kurt has finally looked up at him, eyes shining brightly as he takes him in.

They stare at each other for a moment before Kurt blinks and looks away, down to the papers, to the window at the top of the class, to his computer screen.

Blaine watches as Kurt closes his eyes and seems to compose himself before he stands up and smiles at Blaine, running a hand down his stomach, “Hello Blaine.”

“Hey K – Mr. Hummel,” Blaine winces, dropping his bag as he starts towards Kurt, arms open, expecting a hug.

“Blaine, stop.”

Blaine stops, lowering his arms in defeat and hanging his head. There are no tears this time, just the stinging burn of rejection to match the burning of his back, the pulse of his forearm.

“Sorry,” His voice is thick with emotion, swallowing dryly. He shakes his shoulders, standing up straight and trying to let it roll off his back.

He has to get used to the fact that no matter how much he wants him, no matter how hard his heart clenches when around Kurt, he has to get used to the fact that he can’t have him.

There’s so much going against them in so many ways, and it is obvious Kurt’s not going to let anything happen. So Blaine will be content to take what he can, even if it means waking up an hour early and bringing Kurt his favorite coffee, even if it means a few more cuts whenever he can’t do it alone.

“So, what did you need me to help you with?” Blaine forces a smile, picking up his bag and moving it from the middle of the floor.

“Blaine – “

Blaine can hardly look at Kurt. He can’t force himself to meet his eyes and see the longing he knows is there but he’ll never be able to feel. Blaine shakes his head, pulling out his phone and checking the time just to have something to do. They still have about an hour before his next class, and even then it’s right next door.

He breathes in through his nose, tugging at his sleeve and letting the scent of freshener wash over him. Blaine has to crack a smile; it’s so like Kurt to have a plug-in to keep his room fresh. Kurt is very meticulous about things, Blaine has learned. From the way he styles his hair in the morning to the way he instructs Blaine to touch himself, watching intently through the computer screen and –

Blaine doesn’t know a lot of things, but he knows Kurt. He knows Kurt wants this just as much as him, but he also knows that Kurt has too much integrity to let them have what they want.

“I love the way it smells in here,” Blaine says, walking around Kurt’s classroom. All of the desks are straightened to perfection, so Blaine walks down the rows slowly, running his fingertips across each one. Underneath the desks are textbooks, and Blaine bends down to pick one up.

“You teach History?” Blaine asks, surprised. He turns around to see Kurt shuffling his papers, nodding his head to Blaine’s question. He’d known Kurt had a teaching degree, but if they talked about his job it was always about Broadway roles – teaching was only mentioned once. Kurt hadn’t even told him he was moving back to Ohio, just that his dad was sick _in_ Ohio. It had made Kurt so sad just to mention it in passing; Blaine had figured he’d talk to him on his own.

Guess not.

Look at them now.

“Help me grade some papers, yeah?” Blaine agrees, taking the seat Kurt offers him from at his desk and accepting the pen he hands to him as well. He can’t help but feel special, sitting in Kurt’s plushy chair behind his desk, his computer screen still unlocked before him.

Kurt is behind him, pointing at the papers, “Multiple choice are worth 2 points and response questions are worth ten. Got it?”

Blaine looks up at Kurt over his shoulder and smiles at him, nodding his head. Kurt smiles back at him for a second, a hand resting on his shoulder as they maintain eye contact.

Their eyes stay locked for a moment and for one pleasantly hopeful second as he watches all the conflicting emotions flit over his face -- eyebrows scrunching up, his bottom lip being pulled between his teeth  --  Blaine let’s himself think that Kurt’s going to lean down and kiss him on the lips, leaving behind his inhibitions and caution. Blaine let’s himself hope Kurt was going to reach down and wrap  an arm around his waist, pulling him to his chest and kissing Blaine until he couldn’t feel anymore of his scars.

But Kurt shakes his head and pulls away, his hand dragging across Blaine’s back and Blaine feels the touch for the rest of the day.

\---

Kurt had said to not let it get to him, so Blaine – he tries. He tries not to let the weight of rejection hold him down, he tries not to let Kurt’s distance and hesitance undo all the _good_ Kurt has inflicted upon him.

Blaine thinks that he will always be grateful for Kurt: his smiles, his wit, his kindness, his compassion – the list goes on. He’s not going to let a bad circumstance drag him all the way back down.

So he sucks it up and brings Kurt coffee every morning, his back aching from where they pushed him to the ground and his right hand pressing to his left forearm in an attempt to feel anything but rejection as he hands Kurt the cup and Kurt still won’t touch him passed a fleeting nudge. He needs _more_ ; he needs what he once had – what they once had. He needs and wants it back, but he can’t have it.

He breathes in through his nose and hands Kurt another coffee.

He’s not going to let it get to him.

\---

“You know what you should do?” Kurt asks him one day, sitting next to him at his desk. Blaine glances up from the worksheet he’s grading to find Kurt impossibly close to him, closer than usual and Blaine takes a deep breath, looking back down to the paper.

“No – what?” He feels Kurt shift away and Blaine sighs, marking a wrong answer.

“Join the Warblers,” Blaine immediately stiffens at Kurt’s words, stilling in his marks. Why, _why_ would Kurt suggest that when he knows – he _knows_.

“You know I can’t do that,” Blaine says, standing up. It’s time for him to go, apparently. But Kurt grabs his hand, pulling him back to the chair in a firm motion.

“You _can_ ,” Kurt says, and Blaine refuses to look at him, “You _can_ , and I know you want to.” Kurt hasn’t let go of his hand yet and for the first time Blaine finds himself tugging away, disconnecting their hands. Kurt’s asking the impossible of him, asking him to do something that stirs up so many memories, the phantom ache of his hip bone.

“Goodbye Kurt, I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” Blaine says, and leaves.

\---

Later that night, Blaine finds himself holding his cellphone in one hand and his bottle of Vicodin in another. He feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest, and his stomach is clenched in tight on himself. He’s sweating, and he just wants to feel better.

The Vicodin could take it away for a moment or two, but Kurt may have the power to actually convince him it’s okay.

And plus, he wants to hear Kurt’s voice.

He always wants to hear Kurt.

He calls Kurt.

Kurt picks up with, “Blaine, why are you calling so late are you alright?”

“I need…” he trails off, swallows, “I need something.” He doesn’t quite know what. He just needs for it to feel better.

There’s a silence and then, “Like? Blaine, you know you have to give me specifics.”

“I don’t know!” Blaine whisper yells into his pillow. He turns his head to the side to talk clearly and feels the tears run towards his ears. “I just know I have so much work and I only have the stupid pills and my head hurts and my back hurts and _god_ I just want to sing and I know I can’t and I just want to take it all away.”

“Blaine,” Kurt’s voice is strong. “Sit up,” Blaine does, “pick up the bottle of pills, and walk to the bathroom.”

Blaine follows the orders, not quite sure where this is going but his heart doesn’t feel so tight anymore, listening to Kurt’s voice giving orders.

“Blaine Anderson, I don’t have enough _words_ to describe what a beautiful, strong person you are,” Kurt starts, and Blaine looks up, into the mirror. His eyes are bagged and his hair is crumpled. “You astound me with your _will_ to be alive, Blaine. I’ve never seen someone who enjoys life quite like you do. And you deserve it, you deserve your happy life.”

There’s shuffling, and Blaine realizes he’s crying, “I know things seem hard right now, with me and you and I’m _sorry_ I can’t give you want you want and I’m sorry I even mentioned the Warblers today.”

“Our circumstance is not your fault, Kurt,” he says quietly, but Kurt only grunts and keeps going.

“I just want to see that shine in you again, Blaine. I know it’s there, and it’s the most joyous thing I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing. You have a life to live, you have great things to achieve.”

Blaine wipes at his face, looks back up into the mirror. He wants so badly to believe what Kurt has said to him, but he looks into the mirror and just sees a red faced, crumpled, defeated mess.

“Set the bottle down in the bathroom, out of your room,” Kurt says, and it’s a clear order that Blaine follows. His chest feels a little lighter with it, knowing he’s obeying Kurt. “And promise me that you’ll only use them when you need them for pain. And if you feel like you need them for anything other than pain, you have to call me. I will answer, and if I don’t, I want you to talk into my voicemail until you feel better. Go outside, take a walk. Distance yourself from it, and remember that I think you’re the most amazing person to grace my life.”

“You are so much better than you think, and I am so _proud_ to know someone with such resilience. It feels like the end right now, but I promise, it’s not. And I will always be here for you.”

\---

It stings as his mother laughs, high-pitched and awkward, “Oh honey, you’re not going anywhere.”

“But – “ He tries to protest, but it dies in his throat at his father’s look.

It stings when she pats his hand and smiles at him, grabbing the hand, “After…everything…are you sure you want to go out there alone?”

Blaine’s mind, heart, soul is screaming at him, screaming at him to rip his hand away and tell her _yes, I’d rather be out there alone than trapped here._

But he doesn’t say anything, instead watching as she goes back to cooking, talking about how he can just go to the Columbus University and how he could commute from home. Blaine’s breath is coming much shorter than it was, little puffs that barely escape.

He turns around and leaves the room, stumbling up the stairs with the feeling of pressure on his chest.

He drops to his bed, stuffing his face in his pillow. He doesn’t want a lot, he doesn’t ask for much.

_All I can recall ever asking for_ , he thinks as he reaches into his bedside drawer and pulls out pills, swallowing a couple dry and grimacing when they get stuck in his throat, _is to be happy._ He covers his face, lays back and tries not to think about how disappointed Kurt would be if he knew.

He remembers a time when Cooper was still living at home, playing around with him like older siblings do. Cooper had taken his truck, holding it over his head as Blaine reached for it. He remembers thinking, and then saying, “That’s not fair!”

And Cooper had _laughed_ , patted his head and danced out, shouting, “Life isn’t fair, Squirt!”

Now that Blaine’s older he realizes that’s true –but only because no one cares enough to _make_ life fair, for those who have it a little harder. He’s always going to be the underdog, no matter how well he sings or dances or plays sports.

However, when he was seven he didn’t know that stuff, so he began working for it, working to be the perfect person so he wouldn’t have his toys taken away anymore.

Now he lays back and lets it wash over him, giving up. There’s no one he can be good for anymore, no one who cares enough that everything he’s been doing will pay off.

Except for Kurt, but sometimes he has to wonder if this situation with Kurt will ever amount to anything or if he’s just going to be constantly grasping for straws that are not there. He wonders if there’s going to be a time when he’s not going to be holed up in his room, scissors to his arm and mind fuzzy, vision blurry with his own self-hatred.

He wonders if he’ll ever stop wanting to take a couple more pills, hoping they’ll take the edge off permanently.

Blaine calls Kurt, because that’s the only thing he knows of for sure, right now. Even if Kurt doesn’t _want_ him, Kurt cares enough to talk him away from the ledge.

It rings twice before Kurt picks up, “Blaine, Blaine, are you okay? Why are you calling me?”

“ _Kurt_ ,” his tongue feels thick in his mouth and he swallows around the word, feeling as though he’s falling apart too fast.

“Blaine, talk to me,” Kurt’s voice is rising in pitch, worry etching its way into his tone and Blaine frowns, Kurt shouldn’t feel like that.

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” He smiles lazily, stretching his body out on the bed. “Just…” He trails off, throwing an arm across his face because why had he called Kurt again?

“Blaine, I need you to listen to me. Are you listening?” Blaine sits up at Kurt’s serious tone, his eyebrows pinching together regretfully. He’s fucked up again, it seemed.

“Yeah, I’m listening,” Blaine says, groaning as he stretches out more and everything begins to ache.

“Okay. Where are you? Are you safe?”

“Home. As safe as I can be, here.”

“Are your mom and dad home?”

“Yeah… They’re downstairs doing something or other. Barely even know I’m up here.” Blaine is aware of the bitterness that laces his tone but he can’t bring himself to care, he doesn’t _care_. They can’t bring themselves to care that their son is just upstairs on the verge of something so horrible, too busy plotting out his life plans for him.

“What have you taken?”Blaine laughs bitterly, tears flowing down his face. He sniffles, clenching his eyes and trying to will it away because it’s not even morning and he already regrets it, he can already feel the burn building back up.

“A couple of Vicodin.” He hears Kurt inhale ~~s~~ very sharply before there’s some rustling, things being shut and opened.

“ _Christ,_ Blaine, I told you to call me _before_ you took the pills.”

“Sorry,” Blaine murmurs. 

“I’m coming to get you. Be outside when I text you.”

“But my parents – “

Kurt cuts him off with a hiss and Blaine can never remember ever hearing Kurt sound so angry, so sincere in something. “I don’t give a _damn_ about your parents Blaine. Pack clothes for two nights and _be outside when I text you._ ”

It’s an order, a direct order that makes Blaine’s body thrum through the haze. He picks himself up, pressing the phone to his ear as he thinks that maybe Kurt will finally save him.

“Oh – okay, Sir,” It slips out without a second thought, second nature to him by now. Somewhere down the line he hears Kurt sigh and Blaine bows his head in defeat.

Things are not changing.

\---

Kurt helps him out of his car and into his house, an arm slung over his shoulder and a steady arm around his waist to keep him from falling over.

Everything is dulled but, at the same time, moving way too fast for him. The opposing sensations are going to make him puke anytime soon, of that he’s sure. He’s hardly able to spare Kurt’s house an appreciative once over before he’s being deposited into Kurt’s bed.

Blaine thinks he should be more ecstatic because he’s finally in Kurt’s bed, but he’s starting to sweat now, everything too tight and warm on his body.

Kurt is there for him when he starts struggling against his coat, helping him slip it off and then wriggle out of his pants.

Blaine’s eyes are drooping now but on the last dregs of his coherency he catches Kurt staring at him with a pensive expression on his face, his lips pursed and his eyebrows furrowed.

“What – “ Blaine has to swallow again, his throat too dry to speak, “What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Kurt sighs, pulling back the covers and helping Blaine slide under them carefully. Blaine goes willingly, but he has to reach out for Kurt’s hand at the same time, gently tugging at him.

“Come to bed with me?”

Blaine immediately closes his eyes against the impending rejection after he says it, because _god,_ he’ll never learn to keep his mouth shut, will he?

Kurt does not want him, _Kurt does not want him._ Not like that, not right now, he _knows._ Kurt has made it clear, and somewhere in his mind, Blaine understands that, even if his heart won’t cooperate and makes him say stupid things, makes him want for things he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get again. A few seconds pass and Blaine is about to open his mouth and – say _something._ Apologize for being the dumb young kid he is, apologize for not letting the rejection sink in, apologize for failing to always keep Kurt happy.

He doesn’t get a word out though, because then Kurt is off the bed and Blaine opens his eyes, eyes already glistening with tears, his thigh suddenly throbbing. Kurt is, though, stripping down his clothes and Blaine watches in awe as inches of skin are revealed to him.

Kurt’s body is even more gorgeous in real life than it is through a computer screen, skin stretchedtaut over his defined muscles. Blaine watches him strip down to only his briefs, never looking at Blaine as he does it, dropping his clothes into a hamper at the side of the room.

Blaine is, once again, hit by the urge to just _touch_ Kurt, every inch of him. Blaine wants to reach out and worship his body as Kurt guides him by his hair, smooth skin sliding under his lips as he kisses and sucks and bites everything he can, everything he has permission to.

Kurt gives him a small smile, stepping out of his jeans and sliding into the bed with Blaine, whispering a soft, “Scoot over, then.”

Blaine immediately does, and before he can hesitate and freak out over being in the same bed as Kurt, Kurt is wrapping his arms around him and pulling him face first into his chest. Blaine throws his arms around Kurt’s neck, pressing himself fully into him as he throws a leg across Kurt’s hip.

He’s not going anywhere, not this time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for this chapter: there is a character death, neither Kurt nor Blaine. Proceed with caution. 
> 
> Music for this chapter: Fade Into You by Mazzy Star, Don’t Kick The Chair by Dia Frampton (feat. Kid Cudi), Never Let Me Go by Florence and the Machine, Make You Believe by Little Mix, Dog Days Are Over by Florence and the Machine, Shake by Walk Off The Earth, Both Of Us by B.O.B (feat. Taylor Swift)

Kurt does not sleep very much, that night. He manages to relax his body underneath Blaine’s, but his mind is too hyped up and _reeling_ to close his eyes and let him drift asleep.

He wonders how he got here, breaking so many of his own rules (not to mention the _law_ ) and shattering each and every one of his own moral laws. He wonders how he got here, in bed and practically in love with a boy who wants from him way more than he’s allowed to give.

Kurt thinks about Blaine; sweet Blaine who just wants to have a reason to smile, naïve Blaine who’s seen and felt so much of the cruel world yet still tries to be happy for Kurt.

Kurt cherishes those late night Skype calls where Blaine had basically showed Kurt his heart and begged him to keep it safe, how Blaine had laid out his body underneath the computer glow and followed every command, how he will always do whatever Kurt asks.

He wishes they could go back, back to when things weren’t so utterly complicated and he could avoid his moral lapses in the day time.

 _But, then again_ , Kurt thinks, biting his lip as he runs his hands down Blaine’s back gently. He lets his fingers brush very gently across Blaine’s ass, pressing the tips into the tops of Blaine’s thighs, the scabbed skin of a cut dry underneath his fingers. _It feels so good to touch._

Now that Blaine is so close to him, Kurt doesn’t think he _can_ go back to the way they were, longing from so far away.

Now that he knows that Blaine is really so much worse than he thought, so much more broken, Kurt doesn’t have the heart to tell him that they have to go back.

Blaine tightens his arms around Kurt’s neck, simultaneously rocking his hips into Kurt’s gently and Kurt presses his hands into Blaine’s thighs again, restraining himself from rolling them over and grinding into Blaine until they come against each other and see stars.

There’s no way he could give this up, and there’s no way he wouldn’t _fight_ for Blaine. Fight to keep Blaine in his bed and hidden from so many terrible things that could happen to him.

Kurt closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep like that, his hands covering those scars at the top of Blaine’s thighs and with his cheek pressed into Blaine’s head, fearing so many things he can’t change.

\---

Kurt wakes up an hour later, drawing himself out of bed at the glimpse of the morning sun. It’s Saturday so he could honestly be sleeping in but his body is not cooperating. He makes sure Blaine is covered and cuddling with the pillow before sliding on a pair of sweatpants and sitting at the edge of the bed. He runs a hand through his hair, trying to decide what to do.

He wants a lot of things (a life in New York, a healthy father, his passion back, for things to stop being so _damn_ complicated) but above all, he wants Blaine. He wants to wrap himself up in Blaine and never leave, smiling into his hair as they lay in bed. He wants to be there for Blaine always, applauding when Blaine gets his first big audition, when Blaine nails that audition, when Blaine stands up and accepts all the awards Kurt knows he’ll work hard for.

Kurt is going to take care of Blaine. And he will never leave him.

He turns around to see Blaine with his face pressed into the pillow he’s cuddling against, eyes clenched tight like he couldn’t feel at peace even in slumber.

Kurt sighs and presses a hand to Blaine’s dry complexion. He’s going to start now.

Kurt lays out another pair of sweatpants for Blaine, along with a glass of water. He leaves a note, wording it very carefully, (“ _Put these on (there’s a t-shirt in the dresser to your right, if you feel uncomfortable without one) and drink the water. There’s a toothbrush and facial cloth in my bathroom. Use whatever products you want in there, just be careful. I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re ready.”)_ and closes the blinds against the sure to be blinding sunlight. He makes sure Blaine is comfortable before leaving the room to start on breakfast for them both.

\---

He’s halfway through spreading Nutella on the crepes, Blaine’s favorite, when his doorbell rings. He frowns, unable to remember any visits scheduled for today and hopes it’s just someone selling something (they could really use some Girl Scout cookies).

He, instead, opens the door to find none other than Rachel Berry and Mercedes Jones standing on the stoop of his door.

Shocked is an understatement, right now.

“You know, it’s awful rude to just stand there gaping at your best friends on a _surprise_ visit for you,” Rachel practically huffs, smile playing at her lips.

Kurt tries to shake it off and reaches out to hug them both, letting them each kiss his cheek before letting them in, chattering away already.

“Oh, something smells good Kurt,” Mercedes says, sniffing appreciatively as she hands Kurt her jacket, Rachel agrees. Kurt smiles gently, hanging their jackets in the closet.

“In the kitchen, just, ah, making breakfast, for, um...me,” Kurt says, trying to resist the urge to wring his hands.

“Why don’t you have a shirt on, Kurt?” Rachel says, cocking an eyebrow.

“It’s my apartment, Berry,” Kurt says beckoning them into the kitchen. He looks up at the clock to see that it’s half past eight. He left the bed at seven, so, Blaine would honestly be waking up soon.

“Yeah, but you almost always have a shirt on….unless…” Kurt winces at their synchronized eyebrow raises, shaking his head.

“No, I didn’t have a one-night stand last night,” He tells them, and it’s the truth. Blaine will never be a _one-night stand,_ even if (when) their relationship progresses into something more physical, more intimate, Blaine will always mean more to him.

“So, what brings you here, ladies?” Kurt says, going back to making the still warm crepes. He is going to have to bring them to Blaine soon, so he hopes the girls don’t decide to stay long.

“Just thought we’d visit…see how you’re doing? We know how hard it was for you to leave New York. How’s Dalton?” Mercedes says, grabbing his hand. He frowns, not liking the reminder of the home he’s so far away from.

“It’s fine, Mercedes. And please stop bringing up New York. I did what I had to.”

“We just don’t want you to forget where you belong, Kurt,” Rachel says gently, grabbing his other hand, and fuck, can’t they just let him make breakfast for the beautiful boy in his bed?

He snatches his fingers from their grasps, mumbling, “ _I belong with Blaine_ ,” under his breath, hoping they wouldn’t hear. And as soon as he says it, he knows it’s true, and that Blaine belongs with him, too him, and that Kurt can _never let go._

“Who’s Blaine?” Fuck.

He shakes his head, rolling the crepes up gently. “Blaine’s – Blaine’s no one.” That’s a lie.

Kurt hears a small gasp and whips his head around to see Blaine standing in the doorway to the kitchen, gripping the door frame like he’s going to fall without the support. Kurt watches him swallow dryly.

“I guess I’ll just – “ Blaine starts off, turning around, hunching over in on himself.

“No,” Kurt says it as firm as possible, dropping the knife he’d been using. “No, you’re not. You’re going to go back into the bedroom and wait for me to bring you some of these delicious crepes. Please. Please.” Kurt catches Blaine’s eyes, trying to convey as much sincerity and regret in one look as possible.

Blaine’s eyes dart from Rachel to Mercedes to Kurt, hands fiddling at the top of the sweatpants and Kurt wants to reach a hand out and place it over his anxious ones, comfort him in any way possible. He walks around the counter, completely ignoring Rachel and Mercedes whispering behind him, hands reaching for Blaine. He puts his hands on his shoulders, guiding Blaine to the bedroom.

“Lie back down, okay? I’ll bring you food,” Kurt says, nudging Blaine towards the bed. “I don’t want you standing too much.”

Blaine nods, eyes closing against the hand Kurt runs across his forehead. “Who were those girls?”

“Just some friends. They’ll be gone soon,” Kurt turns around to see that they’ve followed him, disbelieving looks on their faces as they take in the scene. Rachel has a hand pressed to her mouth, eyes very wide while Mercedes has a fist resting on her hip, eyes narrowed.

“Kurt, what the hell is going on?” Mercedes says, trying to take a step into the room but Kurt just stands up, tossing Blaine the remote to the TV in his bedroom, mouthing at him to watch what he wants. Kurt places his body between Mercedes and Rachel and the door, insistently backing them out of the room.

“Kurt, he looks like he’s three!”

“You said you didn’t have a one-night stand! Liar!”

Kurt raises his hands to his temples, feeling a headache come on already. He largely ignores them, making up a plate for Blaine determinedly.

“Kurt, you can’t ignore us?! What’s going on? Did you sleep with that boy? Who is he?”

“No, I did not sleep with him,” Kurt hisses, yanking open his refrigerator and grabbing the milk before slamming it back in as he realizes Blaine prefers orange juice.

“Don’t lie to us, Kurt. This could get you in serious trouble. He’s under-aged – “

“Okay, first,” Kurt says, shaking his head as he pours juice into a cup for Blaine. “I know what I’m doing. I did not sleep with Blaine, and frankly, it’s none of your business – “

“None of our business? Kurt! We’re your best friends,” Rachel says, reaching out for his arm but he jerks away, trying not to waste food or juice.

“I don’t need you telling me how to live my life. It’s time for you to go,” Kurt says, nodding towards the door as he backs into his bedroom where Blaine is sitting up and staring at him with wide eyes.

“Kurt…?”

Kurt shakes his head, trying to push back the feelings of anger. He hears the door close and sighs, relieved. He is just one person, and things will eventually get to even him.

Kurt hands Blaine the plate and sets the juice on the nightstand. He watches Blaine eat, endeared by the way Blaine catches his eye and blushes as he shovels the food in his mouth. Kurt gently tells him to slow down before he stands up, walking around his room and tidying up. He doesn’t let the domesticity get to him, just focuses on one task at a time.

He wants to sit down in bed and hold Blaine as he eats, his chest to Blaine’s back as Blaine takes bites, feet tangled together.  The air is almost awkward, and Kurt wishes it wasn’t like this, that it never became this.

He hears Blaine set the plate down from where he’s rearranging his clothes in his drawer, and then feels Blaine pressed against him. Kurt tenses at Blaine kissing up and down his back, hands splaying across his chest and lips feather soft over his skin.

“No, don’t do that,” Blaine’s hands come up to massage at where his arms are tensed, hands gripping his dresser tightly as he tries to decide between how much he wants to let Blaine continue and whether he should.

“Thank you so much for taking care of me, Kurt,” Blaine’s lips brush across the tops of his shoulders, continuing downward, following the contours of his back muscles and bones. Kurt let’s his eyes flutter closed, gasps out a breath when Blaine sucks hard at the small of his back. Blaine’s hands are pressing insistently into his stomach, making Kurt arch backwards, closer into Blaine’s mouth.

Kurt drops his head to the dresser, eyes clenched tight against his dilemma. Blaine kisses back up his back to his neck, sucking at the skin there and smiling proudly when Kurt’s breath stutters out harshly. Blaine takes his time with each kiss, mouthing gently and smoothing his tongue over the spot every time. He finally stands up on his tiptoes and breathes harshly against Kurt’s ear, closing his eyes and listening to Kurt’s ragged breath.

Kurt feels his knees nearly buckle when Blaine whispers, “Now, please, let me take care of you, Sir.”

The situation is slipping right out of Kurt’s tentative grasp, especially when Blaine spins him around by the hips, pressing him against the dresser.

Everything in him is screaming at him to just force Blaine to his knees and make him _take,_ take whatever Kurt offers. And from the look in Blaine’s eyes when Kurt brings a hand to his jaw and tilts his face up, he wants it too. Kurt searches Blaine’s face with his eyes, looking for the apprehension, for the doubt, but all he sees is a trusting, open boy asking him to fix a lot.

Kurt watches as Blaine’s lips form over an unspoken word, a desperate aching plea that has Kurt groaning and threading his fingers through Blaine’s hair. He watches Blaine swallow thickly, throat bobbing and his pupils dilating as Kurt lets the anticipation build.

“You seem to have forgotten your place, Blaine,” Kurt finally says, and he feels Blaine shudder, his lips dropping open as he licks across them. It’s then that Kurt kisses Blaine, for the first time, his need overwhelming him.

For the longest time, he had wondered what Blaine’s lips would taste like. He’d wondered if he’d ever know, or if he’d always have to guess. He’d wondered if Blaine really was as perfect as he thought, or if Blaine was just the perfect sub he’d built up and projected onto a boy through a computer screen.

Kurt feels his toes curl at finally being able to kiss Blaine. It’s just as amazing as he imagined, the air slowing down around them as they tried to savor this moment: this feeling. Kurt’s been kissed many times before in his life, but none will ever compare to sweet Blaine, who gives and takes and gives and whimpers in joy as he does it.

Kurt lets himself kiss Blaine for a moment, enjoying it. _This boy, these lips are mine_ , he thinks, prying Blaine’s mouth open, letting his tongue push its way into Blaine’s mouth.  He sucks on his tongue gently before taking a hand and pushing on Blaine’s shoulder. Blaine goes willingly, their lips separating with a smack and a gasp from Blaine.

The sight of Blaine on his knees for him, looking up at him with sweet, trusting eyes makes Kurt shiver, closing his eyes briefly against the sensations. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t break eye contact with Blaine as he threads his fingers through Blaine’s hair again. Blaine brings his hands to Kurt’s hips, easing the soft material over his thighs. Kurt steps out of the sweatpants once they hit the ground, eyes glued to Blaine and soaking up every one of his reactions. The way Blaine nibbles at his bottom lip as he stares at Kurt’s dick, now clad in only his boxer-briefs. The way Blaine’s breathing gets deeper and deeper as he eases those, too, off Kurt’s hips and frees his cock.

The way Blaine closes his eyes in utter pleasure as he closes his lips over the head, sucking gently. Kurt barely stops his hips from bucking into Blaine’s mouth, the heat and moisture overwhelming.

Kurt throws his head back and arches into it as Blaine takes more and more of him into his mouth, going so, so slow and so tentatively, so gentle and innocent.

“Oh my _god_ , Blaine,” Kurt says, tugging at Blaine’s curly strands. He looks back down to see Blaine with his eyebrows furrowed deeply in concentration, his hand moving determinedly over what he’s not reaching, and Kurt gulps. He tugs Blaine’s head backward, away from his cock and he grins at Blaine’s displeased whine.

“You’re doing so perfectly, baby,” Kurt croons down at Blaine, and Blaine grins back up at him, his lips pink and swollen and _glistening_ from the vigorous job he’d been doing.

Kurt feels dizzy with his need to come, with his need to see Blaine take all of his cock and love it the way he already seems to. “We’re going to try something.”

As a Dom, Kurt knows that it’s his job to watch his sub’s signs and signals, making sure that he never pushes too far or takes too much. Blaine has been receptive and pliant so far, and Kurt cannot take advantage of that, lest he break his trust and the tentative foundation of commitment they stand on.

Kurt doesn’t think he’s ever had a sub so in tune with everything around them, so in tune with his own needs and Kurt’s too. Kurt trusts Blaine enough to know that _he_ knows when to stop, when he’s uncomfortable.

Kurt presses his thumb into the juncture of Blaine’s jaw and Blaine takes the hint, dropping open his jaw and his eyes fluttering as Kurt gently eases his cock into his mouth. Kurt shivers again, pressing his thumb a little harder into Blaine’s jaw. When he’s at least halfway down Blaine’s throat he stops, hips rocking in tiny motions.  He watches Blaine concentrating so hard, wanting to be so good for Kurt and Kurt smiles.

“You’re doing so good for me, Blaine, so fucking good,” Kurt groans, hips rocking a little harder now. He takes his hands away from Blaine’s jaw, puts them back into his hair as he starts gradually fucking in and out of Blaine’s mouth, grunts and sighs of pleasure escaping his lips easily.

“God, your mouth is so wonderful, Blaine,” Kurt says, tipping his head back again. Blaine’s whimpering below him, his mouth too full to say anything but Kurt knows that, were he able to, he’d be moaning and groaning and sighing and making _so_ much noise, his vocal boy.

“I never,” Kurt lets himself thrust again, looking back down at Blaine, “thought I’d get to do this. I never thought – _fuck --_ I’d get to feel your perfect mouth on my dick,” Kurt now has his hands at the back of Blaine’s head, moaning out the words in a rush. “I never thought I’d see my perfect sub in person, _let_ _alone get them on their knees for me_.”

Kurt’s eyes are practically rolling back in pleasure, and he’s trying his damnedest to keep his eyes on Blaine’s face, trying to focus on every tick and motion.

“Fuck, I’m going to come, Blaine,” Kurt says, pulling his hips back, not wanting to choke Blaine. But Blaine just keeps his fingers at the back of Kurt’s thighs, pressing his pelvis farther into his throat, and that’s what makes Kurt come, sweat dripping from his hair and falling down his neck and chest.

He finishes coming into Blaine’s mouth, hips rocking in tiny thrusts until it gets to be too much. Blaine is still kneeling on the floor, arms now wrapped around himself and gently rocking. There are small, muffled noises coming out of his mouth and Kurt immediately drops to the floor, reaching out to pry Blaine’s arms away from him and bring him closer.

“Blaine, Blaine, what’s wrong?” Kurt says, stroking over Blaine’s back, trying to see what had happened. He found nothing and tilted Blaine’s head up to him, seeing his eyes closed, clenched tightly.

“Blaine, you have to tell me what’s wrong. Did I hurt you? Do you need to safe word?”

They don’t actually _have_ a safe word, at least not for them being actually together. Over the distance they’d had a simple red-yellow-green system, and neither of them had ever used it before. They haven’t _talked_ about much of anything, and Kurt wants to slap himself, just thinking about where Blaine’s mind might be right now.

He should have known, should have thought about actually sitting down with Blaine and laying out where they were, but things had been happening so fast and almost too quick for Kurt.

He tightens his arms around Blaine, pushing his face into his curls. “Oh, _god_. Blaine if you need to stop, tell me.”

Blaine’s body shudders in his arms, and suddenly there’s wet lips being pressed to his neck. “No, no, _please_ , don’t stop.”

Kurt frowns and pulls back slightly, petting over Blaine’s back reverently. “Blaine, don’t try to be brave for me. If you need to safe word, please do it.”

Blaine shakes his head against Kurt’s neck, exhaling out shakily. “No, Sir, I promise I’m fine, just – “

“Just what, Blaine?” Kurt doesn’t stop moving his hands up and down Blaine’s back, more for comfort than anything else now. Kurt is stunned by Blaine’s persistence, but not turned off by it.

“Just. Please, I really want you to touch me, Kurt,” Kurt hardly hears the word’s, they’re mumbled so deeply into his neck. But he catches them and he smiles, biting his lip. He stands up, grabbing Blaine’s hands and hauling him up too, snaking his arms around his waist when he wobbles.

Kurt recognizes his instability, and he worries that Blaine might be saying things that he thinks Kurt wants to hear.

Kurt cranes his neck down so he can whisper in Blaine’s ear, encouraging him to lay his cheek on his shoulder. “Okay, okay. There’s no rush, just take deep breaths for me.” Blaine obeys, sucking in hot breaths against Kurt’s skin. Kurt watches him close his eyes and relax. Kurt follows the movements and ticks of his face, the distressed way he squeezes his eyes shut and how, when he nuzzles his nose into Kurt’s skin, that distressed look fades away.

Kurt waits a few moments before he stops swaying them and looks down at Blaine, waiting patiently for Blaine to open his eyes and meet his. Kurt smiles softly when their gazes finally lock, loving the way Blaine lights up.

“Good now?” Kurt says reassuringly, eyeing Blaine’s face for any hint of uncertainty.

Blaine nods, his teeth showing as he grins up at Kurt. Kurt’s breathing catches at the way Blaine looks right now. Kurt has never seen him so open and bright, without any reservations or doubts hanging over him. Kurt can’t help but wonder -- did he do that? Did he become this boy’s reason to smile?

Kurt doesn’t think that would be so horrible. Taking care of Blaine -- sexually or emotionally or physically – makes him happy like nothing else.

He smiles, because, yeah, he wasn’t that happy before Blaine, was he?

Kurt’s been a Dom for about seven years now. He’s had three other subs in that time, each of them precious to him in their own ways.

His first sub had been a first-timer just like him. They’d fumbled around and learned the ropes and taught each other things they couldn’t really understand, but knew it gave them pleasure.

When they split – their contract was only temporary and tentative, lasting barely six months – Kurt had felt the loss, but he had not let it stop him. By then he’d been wrapped up and thrown into the world of BDSM and he loved it more than anything. He was a quick learner, and he _somehow_ managed to juggle that plus his studies. His second and third subs had both been gorgeous and experienced, attuning themselves to his needs and Kurt had loved the feeling of power and trust that had taken over him every time one of them had dropped to their knees, all for him.

Moving back to Ohio had brought a sense of regret and remorse and longing and _so many_ angry feelings, because he was being snatched away from the one world that he’d always felt at home in. He’d even been making himself a name on Broadway but it had all been ripped away from him as soon as he got a phone call saying his father was in critical health from Carole.

Staying in New York was never really an option after that, so he forced himself to suck it up and say “ _This is for Dad._ ”

His chances of finding a sub in Ohio were slim, so he didn’t really try. But online Domming wasn’t completely taboo and he went for it, because there was no way he could completely let go.

When he had started the _Thing_ with Blaine, he had never, ever expected it to become so much, so much more colossal than he himself thought possible. Blaine alone was just a lot, how much he needed was, at times, more than Kurt could provide.

Kurt should have passed Blaine on to a more experienced Dom, he knows this. Someone who would have been more equipped to handle someone so emotionally unstable and rejected.  

However, he had quickly decided that Blaine was His.

With all of his experience, all of his years of fumbling and learning, he had never felt such an inner desire to have someone as _His._

And he truly wishes he could say what it was exactly about Blaine that made him feel like this. At first it was probably just because he’d never seen someone so desperate and lonely and he -- as a person, not a Dom -- had wanted to help him not feel that way. It had turned into so, so much more.

Kurt knows that somewhere in him, he should regret this decision. He should regret ever answering Blaine’s cry for help, he should regret ever meeting Blaine – Blaine has made things so much more complicated, after all.

But Blaine has also made things so much more wonderful. Kurt has never met someone who he’s wanted to hold, never met someone he’s wanted to love so hard – and he thinks that’s amazing, that one person can make him feel that way.

He had never even thought he would find that person. Kurt had been planning on waiting out the rest of his life alone, romance given up in order to make room for reality and pleasure. But now that he had it, why should he let this feeling go? Because some people say that it’s wrong?

That has never, ever stopped him before.

Kurt nudges Blaine backwards and onto the bed, and Blaine immediately scoots closer to the headboard, looking up at Kurt with excited eyes. The enthusiasm is rolling off of Blaine in waves now, and Kurt shuffles up on the bed next to Blaine, lying on his side. He throws a leg over Blaine’s, nudging his thigh against where Blaine’s still hard.

Blaine is expressive as always, his lips dropping open in a sigh. Kurt can’t resist sitting up to kiss his mouth, their mouths gliding together slickly. He brings a hand down and grips Blaine in his hand, moving up and down in slow strokes.

“You’re so gorgeous, Blaine,” Kurt says against his mouth. “I think you’re so fucking gorgeous.”

Blaine whimpers, shutting his eyes as he rocks his hips hard. He keeps up a chant of Kurt’s name, breathy and quick.

“Come whenever you like, beautiful,” Kurt groans out, moving his body with Blaine’s as he rocks his hips back and forth desperately. Blaine comes almost immediately after, shouting out and clenching his fingers into the bed sheets. Kurt watches him come down, not paying mind to the come covering his hand and Blaine’s stomach. Sweat is rolling down the sides of Blaine’s hair, and he’s still panting, his cheeks a darker color.

Kurt kisses his open, wet lips again, because he can. Because he wants to, and because Blaine sighs into it like he hadn’t ever wanted anything more. Kurt kisses him harder, bringing his clean hand up to the back of his neck, angling his head back so Kurt has better, deeper access.

“You did absolutely wonderful, Blaine.” Blaine opens his glistening eyes then, letting a smile take over his face.

“Thank you, Sir,” He says, nuzzling into the hand Kurt has against his neck.

Kurt frowns, reaching up to brush Blaine’s hair away from his eyes. “Hey, look at me,” He coaxes Blaine to look at him with a finger to his chin, kissing his lips on more time.

“Call me Kurt.”

Blaine beams.

\---

They spend the rest of the day talking and doing mundane things together. They go to a restaurant that’s far enough away that no one will notice them, and hold hands on the table, a constant stream of conversation upheld.

When they go to sleep that night, Blaine wraps himself around Kurt just like the night before. He nudges a leg between Kurt’s thighs and presses close, his face nuzzling into the crook of Kurt’s neck, like before.

And just like before, Kurt slides his hands down Blaine’s back, to just under his thighs, brushes his fingers over that dry skin and molds their bodies even closer.

But unlike that night, Kurt closes his eyes and falls asleep, resigning himself to a lot in the morning, but enjoying what he has – with all intentions to keep it.

\---

This time, when Kurt wakes up, it’s too hot pressure in between his legs. He groans and looks down to see Blaine bobbing his head dutifully, taking a little more than last night and moaning when Kurt involuntarily shifts his hips up.

Kurt remembers his promise of making them actually _talk_ to each other, but right now he indulges him. He holds tight to Blaine’s hair and rides his orgasm, bucking his hips just gently.

Blaine pulls off this time, pumps Kurt through it with just his fist, rutting against the bed. Kurt comes down easily, his hand tightening in Blaine’s hair.

“Sir, please, can I come?” Kurt nods, not breaking eye contact with Blaine as he spills over the sheets again.

Kurt chuckles, pulling Blaine’s lax body up to him, “You’re going to make me have to buy whole new sheet set, aren’t you, sweetheart?” He pets a hand over Blaine’s back, listening to him chuckle breathily.

“That’s my goal,” Blaine shifts his body up and over Kurt’s, settling on his chest and kissing him deeply. He pulls back after only a moment or two, nuzzling into Kurt’s neck, which seems to be his favorite place. Kurt doesn’t say anything, just keeps rubbing his hand up and down Blaine’s back, adoring the way Blaine arches into it.

His phone rings from his bedside table, shaking him from the easy bliss. He doesn’t bother looking at it, just picks it up after the second ring with a vaguely annoyed, “Hello.”

“Kurt!” Kurt winces at Rachel’s shriek, already dreading the conversation.

“Hey, Rachel,” Kurt says, shaking his head at Blaine’s questioning expression.

“So, I’m going to go ahead and assume that twelve-year-old is gone now…” Rachel says, and Kurt can practically feel the judgments through the phone. He groans, resisting the urge to hang-up.

“…right?”

“Once again, _none_ of your business, Rachel,” He nudges Blaine off of him, smiling at his groan. He supposes it was finally time for them to get up and face the world.

“He _is_ there? Kurt, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Goodbye Rachel,” Kurt hangs-up, rolling on his side and slamming the phone back to the nightstand. He rubs a hand across his face, sighing, already exasperated with the day.

He feels a hand on his back and he turns around to see Blaine looking at him worriedly, thumb rubbing against his tense muscle. “Are you alright?” This is the first time Kurt had taken into account every inch of Blaine’s body, and all the scars he sees lining Blaine’s beautiful skin makes him want to puke. There are a lot, some that look fresh but plenty of them scabbed over. They don’t completely cover his skin, but they’re impossible to miss. Kurt feels the need to kiss and worship every single one, make sure Blaine knows he’s worth more than that.

“I’m fine,” Kurt smiles tightly, grabbing his sweats off the floor and standing up. “Come on, we’ll eat breakfast and...talk.”

Kurt watches Blaine frown and turn around, his shoulders tensing and his posture straightening. Kurt’s eyes linger on the scars that Kurt had pressed his fingers into last night and the night before, along his left thigh, same on the right.

Blaine turns around, and Kurt’s eyes snap up to his face, not wanting Blaine to think that he’s so caught up on his scars. Kurt had even seen some of them before, through a computer screen, but _actually_ seeing them feels so much worse.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” The frown has not left Blaine’s face, and Kurt reaches out a hand, now wearing his sweatpants. And it stings when Blaine does not take the hand.

It stings so fucking bad.

Kurt dejectedly drops his hand, takes a very tentative step forward, feeling as if his heart is about to rip in half when Blaine backs away from him, into the wall. Blaine brings a hand across his stomach as if to protect himself and Kurt is quickly becoming frantic because things seem to be falling down around him and he _doesn’t know why._

“Blaine…” Kurt tilts his head back, blinking away tears. Kurt feels like he’s losing him already and they haven’t even gotten to the hard stuff. “ _Please_ tell me what’s wrong. Please.”

He looks back at Blaine who’s frowning even harder now, looking anywhere but at Kurt. “It’s just…” Kurt watches his throat bob as if whatever he’s about to say is about to be really hard.  “Just…this is it, isn’t it?”

Kurt rears back, feeling slapped. They are not on the same page at all, are they? Kurt doesn’t know how Blaine got the idea that he could _leave_ this; that he could leave Blaine, his beautiful sub, Blaine, his love.

Kurt’s old enough to know that what he has standing in front of him is love. Blaine – Blaine is love, and Blaine is everything right in this world, everything happy, all wrapped up and pushed down into a boy who feels _burdened_ by things that are decidedly _not_ happy and good. Kurt has love within his reach, and he’d be an idiot to let it slip away from him.

“Oh Blaine,” Kurt breathes out, reaching out a hand again, practically begging Blaine to take it.

“No – Kurt – I, I can’t touch you, _don’t touch me,_ ” Blaine tries to mold himself into the wall, openly crying now. “Just tell me; just get it over with so I can try to move on.”

Blaine laughs bitterly, hiccups through his tears sadly, “ _Try._ I’m gonna try my hardest but I won’t be able to, will I? You’ve fucking shattered me, Kurt. I’m worthless without you.”

Kurt feels all the air rush out of his lungs, leaving him gasping.  He sucks in a breath, then another one, tears falling down his face at a rapid pace. He wants it to be not true – how can Blaine think so absolutely little of himself? – but he looks at Blaine, pressed against the wall with his head fallen in defeat, and he knows that Blaine has said words he actually believes.

“Blaine, _no_ ,” Kurt is crying even harder now, and he reaches up a hand to run it across his face and through his hair. “No, no, no, no, no. Maybe you don’t know it, or understand it, but I can never move on from you.”

Kurt looks down at his sockless toes, pushing them into the carpets. “I don’t know what this is, Blaine, but it’s not something to walk away from. I don’t want to leave you, Blaine, can’t you see you make me happy?”

Kurt tries to take Blaine by the hand again, feeling like he might die if Blaine rejects him one more time, but thankfully Blaine only hesitates before he slips his hand into Kurt’s grasp. Kurt pulls Blaine to him gently, not wanting to startle him. Kurt doesn’t break eye contact as Blaine takes tentative steps forward.

“And, sweetheart, the last thing you are, is worthless,” Kurt says it once Blaine is finally tucked into his neck, still stiff and crying, but willing. “If you don’t ever believe anything I say to you, ever again, believe this: anyone who smiles like you do is not worthless. You deserve this whole world, and I damn well intend to give it to you.”

\---

Kurt makes strawberry pancakes for breakfast, at Blaine’s request. And he dollops them each with a pound of whip cream, sprays some on Blaine’s nose just to see him giggle. They eat in the living room, in front of the TV, plates on their crossed legs and their knees knocking together.

They watch _Say Yes To The Dress_ and commentate and speculate on the dresses together (Things like “She’s so beautiful but that thing makes her look like a building, Jesus,” and “If she doesn’t go with that one, I might have to personally call her and help her out,” things that make them laugh out loud and tickle each other in the sides in joy.)

But then they finish eating and Kurt knows that this has gone on long enough, that they’ve been dancing around a subject they really shouldn’t for far too long.

“Alright, Blaine,” Kurt takes their plates to the kitchen and deposits them in the sink, planning to wash them later. He turns off the TV and sits back on the couch, legs tucked underneath each other and facing Blaine.

“Come on Blaine,” Kurt says, laying a hand on Blaine’s shoulder. “You’ve gotta work with me or we’ll get _nowhere_.”

Blaine inhales and exhales deeply, straightens his back and looks at Kurt with tired eyes. Kurt offers his hand and Blaine takes it, making Kurt exhale in relief at their palms pressed together.

“I’m – I’m going to do this, Blaine,” Kurt breathes in shakily, “We’re going to do this. But I have to know you know that this is not going to be easy. It never is.”

Blaine nods, not looking at Kurt, “Yeah, I know. But I…I really want this, Kurt. I really want you.” He looks at Kurt then, gives him a small smile that says _Anything for you_. That smile means everything to Kurt.

Kurt smiles back and squeezes Blaine’s hand gently, “I know.”

“But I still have a job to do, and I can’t let this get in the way of it. I already told you, I’m a worrywart, I can’t be constantly on my toes because I’m worried you’ve done something unsafe.” Kurt takes Blaine’s other hand and places them both on top of the couch, underneath his.

“I – I adore and cherish you _so much_ , Blaine. I can’t afford to lose you because of something preventable – “

“But it’s really _not_ , Kurt!” Blaine bursts out, eyes wide and trained on Kurt. Kurt recognizes the fear and agony that he had thought had at least _receded_ , but nope, there it is, front and center.

“I don’t have _anything_ , Kurt. Nobody cares – “

“I care – “

“And half the time it feels like you aren’t there, like you would rather not be there! Because I came and fucked everything up and everything is now at risk because of me and I just sometimes think…”

Kurt feels like he’s choking on air, “Don’t you **dare** say that, Blaine Anderson.” Kurt leans forward, tries to capture Blaine’s eyes and relay the message he swears he’ll spend all his _life_ preaching.

“Look at me,” Kurt tilts his chin up, kisses at the tears there, still clenching Blaine’s hands as he looks into his eyes. “Look at _me_. I’m sitting right here, I’m here. I’m not going _anywhere,_ Blaine. For as long as I can, I will be here, holding your hands,” Kurt brings them to his lips, kisses over each knuckle meaningfully, “and doing everything I can to make you see just how precious you are.”

Blaine smiles watery, leans in to kiss Kurt deeply, but Kurt can see, when he pulls back that he’s heard his words, yet he hasn’t let them touch him like they need to.

“Just – “ Kurt closes his eyes and licks across his lips tiredly. He takes a hand away from their tangle and uses it to tug Blaine closer, kisses him with everything in him, soaks up the moan of surprise that leaves him. Kurt pulls back and tilts their foreheads together for a moment before pulling back, hand still at the back of Blaine’s neck. “Just promise me you’ll stop with the pills. It’s so dangerous, Blaine.”

“But – “

“I need your word, Blaine.”

Blaine opens his mouth, hopefully to agree, but Kurt cuts him off one more time. “And if you break your word, I’ll have to punish you. You need to understand that this is serious. What you’re doing is serious, and dangerous, and I just can’t let it go on. So, if you take the pills for anything other than their intended purpose I _will_ punish you. Do you agree?”

After a moment Blaine nods with wide eyes, bringing his free hand up to his forearm and rubbing over the scars there.

Kurt just sighs and tugs Blaine a little closer to kiss him again.

\---

(“I love him, Dad. I didn’t even know it was possible to feel like this. And I know it’s very, very wrong. But. I love him.”

“Hey, I know love, kid. And if you think what you’re feeling is the real deal then…it’d be stupid for me to try and stop you, wouldn’t it? I know you, you’d just do it anyways. Just make sure this is worth all you’re risking.”

“Thank you, dad. And…He is.”)

\---

(“Join the Warblers.”

He says it one Sunday night; Blaine curled under his arm in bed after a scene.

Blaine tenses, just like Kurt expected he would, but Kurt hushes him.

“Please. At least think about it, for me.”

“Okay, Kurt.”)

\---

Kurt kisses down the length Blaine’s forearms, making sure to kiss each scar he comes across. Blaine just pants and twitches, trying to obey Kurt’s order of keeping still.

Kurt lavishes each of his palms with attention, nuzzling into them affectionately. “You’re doing so well, baby. Keep staying still.”

Blaine has been laid out underneath him for about thirty minutes now. They had busted into Kurt’s door, lips attached and arching into each other after a long day. Kurt had pressed Blaine back into his bed with determined hands, loving how Blaine just went. They’d kept kissing, and Kurt let Blaine have free reign to his body, hands everywhere and hips rutting up against Kurt’s.

And then Kurt had given him the order to slow down. And then Kurt had told him, very quietly, to place his hands on the bed and keep them there.

Blaine had obeyed every order perfectly.

Now Kurt’s paying Blaine’s body the attention it deserves, lips and fingers pressing everywhere.

He keeps kissing down Blaine’s chest, bypasses his hard cock and hooks his leg over his shoulder, moves down to his calves. Kurt lavishes each cut and scar with spit and love, listening to Blaine whimper and cry out above him. Kurt does the same to the other leg before sitting up and petting Blaine’s hip.

“Turn over for me,” Kurt says it with a loving smile, appreciating the one he gets in return. Blaine flips over, burying his face in the pillow for a moment before settling more comfortably and keeping his body that way.

Kurt smiles and pets at Blaine’s ass before he starts kissing at his back. Blaine groans at that too, still not moving his body. Kurt gets to his lower back and pauses, knowing this place seems to be sensitive on Blaine.

He gets the response he was waiting for, strangled whimpers that leave his mouth in a constant stream. Kurt smiles against the skin before he moves down a little and sits up, setting his hands on Blaine’s cheeks and squeezing gently before separating them.

Kurt lets out his own groan at the sight of Blaine’s dry hole, clenching and unclenching with Blaine’s need. Kurt can’t help but press a dry thumb to his rim, pressing even harder when it elicits a pleasant gasp from Blaine.

Kurt smiles, “You know,” he reaches over to grab the lube, keeping his voice low. “One day, when we have a little more time, I’m going to bring you back here, and do this same thing. I’m going to kiss every inch of your body, make sure there’s not a piece of you that goes unnoticed. And then I’m going to turn you over,” Kurt slicks up his hard cock, runs his hand up and down his length gently for just a moment, “slick you up, and spread you on my fingers,” He reaches down to Blaine’s cheeks and squirts some there too, chuckling when Blaine gasps out in surprise. Kurt spread himself along Blaine’s back, nibbles at his ear and whispers, “And then I’m going to fuck right into your tight ass, and you’re going to _scream_ for it, baby.”

“And I’m going to just keep fucking you,” Kurt moves his hips, feeling himself slip in between Blaine’s slick cheeks in a crude imitation of the words he’s saying. “I’m just going to fuck you harder and harder, just like you’ll ask me, just like I know you’ll love it. And you’ll moan and groan and curse and praise my name. One day. But for now, get yourself off and move with me, darling.”

Blaine does, grabbing his own erection and pushing back on his knees, panting when it makes Kurt slide faster and faster. Kurt presses Blaine’s cheeks closed around his cock, looks down to see them pseudo-connected, his slick length dragging up and down from in between Blaine’s ass.

Blaine comes beneath him, crying out and clenching his eyes shut. Kurt follows, come spurting up and over Blaine’s back and his chest from where they’re pressed together.

Blaine sighing out gently, eyes fluttering closed in satisfaction, and Kurt gets up to clean them off, wiping them off.

Blaine immediately cuddles into him when he finally lies down. Kurt massages his scalp gently, breaking the rest of his hair free from the gel and grinning when Blaine sighs in content. “You were perfect, sweetheart. Just like always.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

\---

Just like Kurt suspected, Blaine lights up when people let him.

He joins the Warblers like Kurt had begged, and he, just like Kurt knew he would, loves it. (No matter what they had said, you can’t beat a passion for something out of someone. Not someone who’s passionate and talented, like Blaine. Kurt wants to see those foul pieces of shit in ten years, when they’re in jail for taking something too far and Blaine is lighting up Broadway left and right.)

There are no more scary calls that make Kurt want to throw up from worry.

Things seem to be looking up.

\---

_“Kurt…Kurt, you need to get here…you need to see Burt…”_

\---

Kurt doesn’t know why he answered the fucking phone call in class. But his students were working and it was Finn, and Finn very rarely called him, especially when he knew Kurt was working.

He shouldn’t have picked up the phone.

(Yes he should have.)

\---

“Boys, boys, I need your attention.”

“I’m going to the hospital. My father is terminal. I’ll get an administrator down here as soon as possible. Just go on to the next section, and don’t forget your binders are due Monday.”

Kurt doesn’t say goodbye, just flies out the door, their wishes of good luck and well-being falling on an empty hallway.

\---

The walk to Burt’s room is short and familiar, yet it feels just the opposite.

When he gets there, he notices the large number of people first.

Carole is standing outside the door, cocooned in Finn’s arms. “He’s asking for you,” she sniffs.

Kurt nods and pauses outside the door. Everyone is looking at him, but all he can do is think of one person, all he can do is think of Blaine.

Before he walks in, he texts Blaine that he needs him more than ever.

\---

Kurt can tell that Blaine has rushed to get there when he finally arrives. His gel is breaking lose and his uniform is skewed to hell, but it’s his worried, frantic eyes that has Kurt breaking down, clutching his father’s hand and ignoring him when Burt gruffly tells him to stop crying.

Blaine sits down next to him and pets at him, touches his arms and face and hair, asking him how to comfort him. Kurt can’t respond, can’t say anything, but Blaine just slides into his lap and presses his face into his neck like usual, and that feeling alone, Blaine just _being_ there, makes Kurt cry harder, this time out of relief.

He squeezes his eyes shut and squeezes his father’s hand, tightens his hold around Blaine and he’s going to lose one of these today.

He cries harder.

\---

It takes awhile for him to pull it together, but Blaine and his father are patient.

“I’m – I’m so sorry, dad,” he says, blows his nose on the tissues next to the chair.

“Don’t be.”

Kurt smiles at his father, tears still falling but he’s no longer bawling. “I love you so much, dad.”

“I love you too, kid. And I’m always gonna love you, alright? Don’t you ever forget that.”

“Kurt?” Kurt looks down to see Blaine looking up at him with concerned eyes. “Can I get you anything? What can I do to…? to help?”

_To make it better?_

Kurt grins at Blaine through his tears, sniffles and wipes at his face again. “Some coffee would be great, sweetheart…and enough tissues to last.”

Blaine smiles and removes himself from Kurt’s lap. “How do you take your coffee?”

“Two sugars. And no sugar for Burt.”

“Come on, Kurt. I can’t go out with a bang?”

Kurt doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

He tries both.

\---

“I’m so sorry we had to meet like this, sir,” Blaine says when he gets back from the cafeteria as he hands Burt his coffee. “But…I am truly honored to have met the most important man in Kurt’s life. Your son is excellent, and you should be _so proud_. I…I promise to take care of him, as best as I can. For as long as I can...as long as he lets me.”

Burt looks at Kurt, raises his eyebrows and catches Kurt’s eye. They look at each other for a moment, and Kurt reaches out to grab Blaine’s hand, raising an identical eyebrow.

“Kurt’s my greatest accomplishment,” Burt finally says, looking at Blaine head on. “And I’m glad to know…that when I leave this world, I won’t be leaving him alone. That he’ll still be happy and have the love he needs. You make him happy, Blaine. And I know you love him.”

Blaine blushes and looks to the floor, but nods anyways. Kurt would be shocked by the confession, but he isn’t, because he knows the same thing Blaine knows. “I love you too, B. More than just about anything.”

Blaine looks up and beams, tightening his hand around Kurt’s lovingly.

“Alright well. Enough of that stuff. Call everyone in. I want to be with my friends and family.”

Kurt nods and stands up, hugs Blaine tight and cries again.

\---

Burt Hummel dies, that night.

Kurt wakes up just before it happens, still curled up in the hospital chair. Carole is already awake, and they both stand next to his bed and grip each of his hands as he flatlines, his last breath of air leaving him in a puff.

Blaine is awake now too, and Kurt is grateful because it’s then that he turns around and flings himself into his arms. Blaine is there to catch him.

\---

Ohio is going to drive him stir crazy, he realizes two weeks later, pouring over the same worksheets again and again.

With Burt gone, he suddenly feels tether-less and loose, like he’s floating with his purpose fulfilled. And he thinks that now he could go back to New York and resume his life, shelve his teaching degree for good. Rachel and his friends would all welcome him with open arms, he knows it.

So what’s stopping him?

“Mr. Hummel,” He looks up to see Blaine standing in his door, smiling that secret little smile and – Oh. Blaine is the only thing that makes this horrible place bearable, the only thing that keeps Kurt from packing up his bags and getting the hell out like he did the first time.

“Yes, Mr. Anderson?”

Blaine walks in and closes the door and Kurt is too tired to protest, knowing that Blaine’s smart enough not to stay long. And he doesn’t, only setting down a sticky note and retreating from the room, waving his fingers shyly.

_I’ll be at your place after practice._

Kurt grins. Maybe he’ll just take a trip.

\---

“How would you feel about New York, Blaine?” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music for this chapter: Cruel and Beautiful World by Grouplove, Be OK by Ingrid Michaelson, Brave by Sara Bareilles, Next To Me by Emeli Sande, Roll To Me by Del Amitri, Rhythm of Love by Plain White T’s

“My bedroom is the third room down the hall, to the right. I want you stripped and on your knees, on the mattress,” Kurt pats Blaine’s ass with a brilliant grin, shutting and locking the door to his apartment with a view.

Blaine goes willingly, like he always does, shucking his clothes as he looks for the room and already panting in anticipation at what’s to come.

He’s in _New York fucking city_ with the love of his life, things are already starting off wonderfully. There are no overbearing parents or college plans to make there’s just – this. Him and Kurt, being Kurt and Blaine with no obligations and a burning love for each other. Here there’s no judgment, no boundaries for them to keep within, it’s New York City; they can be whoever they want.

He hears Kurt enter the room and then Kurt hooks a finger under his chin, lifting his face to see his and Blaine’s breath catches at Kurt beautiful grin, because this is it.

This is what he wants forever.

\---

Blaine flops onto the mattress, grinning and sated, the loud, bustling sounds of New York echoing in his ears like a mantra. Kurt follows him, spreading out and kissing up and down Blaine’s neck lazily, whispering praises into the skin.

He wants to take everything he’s feeling – the hope, the delirious happiness, the love – and pack it all into a bottle, so if he should ever feel horrible and beaten down again he could just open that jar and let it wash over him, all so he could remember how he felt right then.

He turns onto his side, hooks his leg over Kurt’s and tugs him closer by a foot to his lower back. Kurt’s smile is huge and mischievous as he lets Blaine flip them over so Blaine is straddling him, both of them still naked and fine with it.

Blaine leans down, kisses Kurt for all he’s worth because he can, because the sun is rising and he’s dizzy with his happiness. Kurt kisses back just as hard, slides a hand into Blaine’s hair and tilts his head to get better access at his mouth, licking around and exhaling hard.

Blaine runs his hands up and down Kurt’s chest as he pulls back gently, kneads the hard muscle and bites at Kurt’s jaw, loving that he (and only he) can make his breath hitch in that gorgeous way. He makes sure to leave a mark because now he can, because everyone will know he put it there, that Kurt is his.

Kurt’s cock is gaining interest now, and Blaine grinds back against it, feeling his still wet and slightly stretched hole clench.

“Blaine – “

Blaine shushes him, reaches back to grab Kurt’s cock with his hand and pump it a few times. “Just – can I do this? Please?”

“Of course, baby, anything you want,” Kurt groans, bucking his hips up gently, making Blaine tighten his thighs around him momentarily. Blaine licks his lips, his throat suddenly feeling dry.

This is not Dom/sub, this is Kurt and Blaine and Blaine feels like soaring, knowing that Kurt is not only in this for a good sub. Kurt wants _him_ , loves _him_ , and everything else is just a generous perk.

“I want…I think I want to move to New York,” Blaine says, looking over his right shoulder at the sight of the city. It’s magnificent, especially with the sun rising and shining on them, casting a ring of what Blaine can only call _promise_.

Kurt blinks up at him in surprise, squeezes his hips with his fingers. “Oh…That’s... that’s _amazing_ , Blaine!”

Blaine grins, kisses Kurt again and says against his mouth, with a grin, “I also want to ride you.”

Kurt sighs heavily and threads his fingers through Blaine’s hair, smiling gently, “Anything you want, Blaine.”

Blaine reaches over for the lube and wrinkles his nose, because it never feels right when he does it. He presses it into Kurt’s hand instead, pouts his lips and looks away. “I…I want you to finger me open…while I swallow down your cock…” He trails off timidly, not expecting the throaty moan that escapes Kurt. He looks up and Kurt pulls his face down to his again, bites over his lips and sighs into his mouth excitedly.

“ _Fuck_ , Blaine,” Kurt says, and Blaine takes that as a yes, turning around on Kurt’s chest, not wasting any time in mouthing around his cock. He moans when Kurt slowly inserts a finger, then two, not having to go slow but still gentle.

Blaine slowly rotates his hips, pushing the fingers just a little deeper as he takes more and more of Kurt down. He’s gotten pretty good at this, and the feeling of Kurt’s cock in his mouth is so familiar and welcomed that he loses himself in the sensations, just rocking back and forth on Kurt’s fingers that are now brushing across his prostate, bobbing his head around.

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ , Blaine,” suddenly the fingers are gone and Kurt is shifting away from him, pulling Blaine’s head away from his cock.

Blaine sits up and turns around again, positioning his ass against Kurt’s cock, feeling it slip in and out of his crack gently.

“If you want to ride me you’d – _ah_ , you’d better do it now,” Kurt says, breathing heavily and sweating down his neck. Blaine lifts up and guides Kurt’s cock to his entrance before sinking down, his lips falling open at the feeling of being stretched out again. He goes slowly and carefully, eases his way down until Kurt has bottomed out and they’re flush together.

Blaine’s moan seems loud in the morning light, echoes throughout the room as he starts moving up and down, hands grappling at the sheets.

“God, you feel so good, Kurt, so good inside me,” He looks down to see where they’re joined together, Kurt slicked up and sliding out of him faster and faster as Blaine speeds up.

“Yes, come on baby, ride me, you’re doing so good,” Kurt urges Blaine up and down with the hands at his hips insistently and Blaine follows the direction, rising up and dropping down determinedly.

Kurt brings a hand up to stroke Blaine off and it barely takes a couple of tight-fisted pulls before Blaine is coming, streaks of come painting Kurt’s chest and hand, Kurt following very soon after.

Blaine stops moving, rocks a little bit before pulling up and off, come starting to run down his thighs already. He lies on his stomach next to a still panting Kurt, lays his head on his collarbone and strokes across his side.

They lay like that for a while before Kurt starts moving. “I have to clean us up,” he says, shifting away to walk to the bathroom and retrieve a washcloth. His hands are hot on Blaine’s skin, but the washcloth is cool as it brushes across his fluttering hole.

Blaine wraps himself around Kurt as he lies back down, and Kurt puts a hand in his hair, massages the scalp gently like Blaine loves.

“I meant it, you know,” Blaine mutters against Kurt’s neck.

“Meant what, Blaine?” Kurt hums, and Blaine sits up and leans over Kurt with nervous eyes.

“I want to move to New York…with you,” He looks away, to the windows again, and back to Kurt, trying to piece his future together. “And I want to spend forever here…with you.”

The kiss Kurt gives him is full of all the promise of the shining sun.

\---

Once Blaine finally gets to _see_ the city, he falls even more in love with it than before, when all he had was pictures. It’s magnificent and grand, makes him feel small and yet, just as grand at the same time.

Or maybe that’s just how Kurt makes him feel. Kurt, who takes him anywhere he wants even though he doesn’t ask – Kurt, who doesn’t let go of his hand and kisses him when he feels like it.

Yeah, it’s probably just Kurt.

\---

He meets Rachel in much the same way as last time.

They’re on the couch watching TV together, warm and comfortable in their pajamas as Kurt’s lasagna cooks. And then there’s frantic knocking on the door, too many voices sounding through from the hallway, and Kurt rolls his eyes before heaving himself up.

“ _What_?” Blaine hears him hiss, and then there’s a chorus of excited “ _Kurt_!”’s. That’s when Blaine gets up, pausing the TV and peering around the corner to see Kurt glaring at a group of people.

“We’ve come to take you out, you stuffy old man!” Rachel says, swaying on her feet gently. “You’ve been cooped up in here ever since you got here! Boring!”

“I’ve been busy,” Kurt crosses his arms and leans against the door, but his friends aren’t having that as they force their way inside.

“Oh, BS,” A girl Blaine doesn’t know says, brandishing some vodka proudly. “Now go put on your sexiest jeans and -- !”

She notices Blaine then, wringing his hands in the doorway to the living room. The chatter of the group dies down as all eyes turn to Blaine, and he brings a hand up to wave shyly, polite smile in place.  

“Um, hello,” Blaine takes a step back when Rachel yells, “Oh my fucking god!”

“You’re still hanging around that kid? Kurt!” Rachel sounds utterly offended as she squints and wrinkles her nose at Blaine distastefully.

“Do you honestly think I would just bring “some kid” to New York with me?” Kurt says, exasperated as he shoulders through his friends and in front of Blaine.

“I’m so sorry, Blaine. They didn’t tell me they were coming,” Kurt says, laying a hand on his waist protectively.

Blaine swallows, standing up on his tiptoes, and brushes his face against Kurt’s neck gently before setting his chin on his shoulder, looking at the group interestedly. They’re all mixed and matched as they split up, a lot of colors and a lot of high heels, most all of them still eyeing Blaine but a few wandering into Kurt’s house.

“It’s…it’s fine,” Blaine replies quietly. He doesn’t like how they’re staring at him – like he’s so much younger or so much of a _burden_ , and he has the urge to prove them wrong. “You should…go.”

“Blaine, I don’t want to leave you alone,” Kurt says gently, his eyes skating across Blaine’s face apprehensively. “This was supposed to be our time.”

“I’ll be fine, promise. And you’ll come back and I’ll be waiting for you, and things will be fine,” Blaine grins and pulls back, slides a hand down Kurt’s chest possessively.

Kurt looks at him for a moment, squeezing his waist periodically. Finally, he nods, turning back to his friends. “Alright, I’ll go. Give me a couple of minutes.”

Blaine follows him into the bedroom, ducking by the bright partygoers, eager to get out of that room where he can feel all of their judgment.

He keeps telling himself – Kurt is his. They love each other, and one night is not going to change that. They don’t need the approval of others, they have the unconditional approval of each other, and that’s what matters.

But when he sits on the mattress they made love on just the night before and watches Kurt slide into his skinniest, sexiest pair of jeans and a tight button up shirt, he can’t help the sick feeling that settles into his stomach.

All of Kurt’s friends are older and sophisticated just like him, and they all had the same question on the tip of their tongue: what was he doing with a kid like Blaine?

Blaine himself wonders that sometimes.

He grimaces, flopping back onto the bed. He knows what they’re all going to say to him tonight, knows that they’ll all try to convince him that he’s better off without having to babysit everyday for the rest of his life.

And he knows Kurt won’t believe them, but maybe he should.

“I can hear you thinking over here,” Kurt says, and Blaine opens his eyes to find Kurt coming out of the bathroom, a cloud of enticing cologne following him. Blaine appraises his body one more time, tries to smile.

“You look great.”

Kurt hums, climbing onto the bed next to Blaine and swinging a leg over his hip to sit comfortably on Blaine’s thighs, playing with the fabric of Blaine’s shirt.

“Thank you,” Kurt says, smiling appreciatively before his face drops into a frown, and he swallows. Neither of them wants to bring up the elephant in the room, but Blaine knows Kurt knows it’s unavoidable. “I wish you could go with me. My friends would love you…once they got to know you.”

And there it is. Blaine strokes his fingers on Kurt’s hips contemplatively.

Blaine brings a hand up to where Kurt’s still tapping at his collarbone nervously and covers his hands with his own. He laces their fingers together and brings them to their sides before surging up and kissing Kurt, cupping his jaw. His hand goes to Kurt’s lower back to steady him as Blaine moves, and he presses into Kurt harder, other hand moving to the back of his hair tightly. He’s shaking a little bit, trying to tell Kurt too many things that can’t be said, but Kurt just pulls back gently and separates their kiss, hand on Blaine’s chest to stop him from pressing forward again.

“Cool off, honey,” Kurt says, and Blaine feels the underlying command underneath his skin. “Are you okay? Do you want me to stay?”

Blaine closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. _Yes, I want you to stay – I don’t ever want you to leave me. Please._

_No. Go. Show them that I’m not what they assume I am._

Blaine settles, shaking his head. “No, go ahead. Um. Please get home safe, alright? Come back to me, yeah?”

Kurt’s eyes sweep over his face, and Blaine averts his eyes, chewing at his bottom lip. He hates it when Kurt does that _thing_ with his eyes, that thing where it’s as if Blaine’s laid bare underneath him, secrets and skin and all, and Kurt can see it. That thing where he looks at Blaine as if he wants to _fix_ him, as if he was a thing to be broken but not _because_ he’s broken, because Kurt wants to see him happy.

The look like there’s no one else in this world who could love him more.

That look that is, in the end, just for him.

“I’ll always come back to you.”

Blaine just smiles.

\---

That night, Blaine does something he hasn’t done in a long time.

He calls Tina, his best friend from McKinley.

He’s nervous. She could very well hate him by now, and all he’d be able to do is just beg for forgiveness he knows he doesn’t deserve.

But for the first time in a long time, he craves a best friend -- someone to confide in, to _be_ that someone for somebody else. Maybe even go back to how things were.

The last time he’d talked to or seen Tina’s smiling face was the day before the attack, when they were talking and laughing about a song choice for Regionals.

Tina had always been there for him, and he feels like shit for just cutting her off with no warning.

She must feel horrible, and Blaine made her feel like that. Blaine had always, _will_ always care for her but after something scary and life changing like that happening, he just hadn’t wanted any human contact.

And sometimes the thought of stepping foot on a public campus again makes him shake, but he craves human contact outside the little bubble he and Kurt have built for themselves.

She picks up on the second ring, and Blaine hears nothing but her breathing. He knew this wouldn’t be easy. And it shouldn’t be easy, but he’s glad she even picked up.

“Um, hello? Tina, I know you’re there.”

He hears her exhale deeply across the line. “You have two minutes to explain to me where the hell you’ve been for nearly a _year_ , Blaine Anderson, and if I’m not satisfied with the answer I will hang this phone up, so help me.”

Blaine smiles. “I’m so glad to hear your voice, Tina. And I’m going to explain everything, right now.”

So he tells her. He leaves out the gory details but explains how horrible it was for him to walk out of the school a little late and suddenly be shoved to the ground, hateful words making their way to his ears, heavy feet making their way to his body.

He tries not to cry. He’s cried so much this past year, he thinks he might be dried up and out of remorse and self-pity. It’s over and he’s in a much better place now, and it can only continue to get better, at least he hopes.

The same can’t be said for Tina, though. He can hear her sobs and gasps and grunts of anger throughout the entire story, and somewhere inside of him he thinks it’ll be alright if he’s still worth that much emotion.

“The doctor put me on bedrest and the whole thing was just kind of swept away…” Across the line there’s a hard _thump_ and Blaine winces, peering at his phone curiously.

“ _What_?”

“Really…it was better that way…I wanted it like this…”

“How can you say that, Blaine? Don’t you want those assholes to _pay_ for that?”

“It’s Ohio, Tina…” Blaine says quietly, feeling his stomach grumble. He hasn’t eaten since Kurt made lunch that afternoon, and their plans for dinner had been thoroughly thwarted. Instead of potentially burning down Kurt’s kitchen he decides to just heat something up, though he can’t wait for the day when they can eat together every night.

“Ugh, I know,” Tina groans, “I can’t wait to get to New York.”

Blaine stops, a shovel of food halfway to his mouth. “No way.”

“Yeah…I applied for The Actor’s Studio yesterday. Hopefully I get in. Where are you going?” Blaine can hear the frown in her voice and hopefully this brightens her day a little.

“I’m actually uh. In New York. Right now.” Blaine can’t stop himself from grinning, delighting in her squeak of surprise. “And I. I planned to go here too.”

“Why are you in New York?!”

And this is it. “I’m actually, here with my, boyfriend.” Blaine winces as his voice rises in pitch, tapping his fork against his plate nervously.

“Dammit, Blaine! This is why you can’t disappear for months at a time, _we lose touch_ and you do things like _get a boyfriend_ without telling me. Details!”

How much should he tell her? How much can he tell her?

It’s not like Tina knows Kurt, and if she ever officially meets him, it’ll definitely be after they’ve graduated. Blaine decides to indulge himself, smiling as he gushes over Kurt.

This is amazing. He can’t really be completely honest and say all he needs to, but to be able to sit on the couch with the phone to his ear and his best friend on the line feels good and he had missed it. He can’t believe he gave this up in order to make room for self-pity.

“He makes me so happy, Tina,” He sighs out, looking at the clock. It’s a little after 3AM which means Kurt’s been gone for a little less than five hours.

“Why do you sound so sad, then?” Tina says curiously, and he knows if they were near each other she would have patted his hand sweetly.

Blaine’s seen the movies – he knows that when you party, you party hard. Especially since Kurt hasn’t been out in a long time. But he deserves it. Blaine doesn’t expect Kurt to stand over him and watch him do his homework and hold his hand as he walks across the street – he can occupy himself.

“It’s just. He’s out, with friends right now. Friends that…don’t really like me,” Blaine took a deep breath. “I’m afraid of what they’ll say to him about me.”

And, like he said, it feels good to stretch out on the couch and just chat to his friend, but he can’t help the coil of worry that tightens in his stomach for every minute that passes.

“Oh Blaine,” Tina says regretfully. “Look, from what you’ve told me about him – he loves you a lot.”

Blaine smiles, because, yeah, he knows that.

“And if he loves you as much as we both know he does, he won’t let people that don’t even know you get in the way of your relationship. Have a little faith.”

They _don’t_ know him. Kurt’s friends can say what they want, but at the end of the day all they know is his age and if he knows anything – it’s that when life throws shit at you, your age doesn’t matter.

And he’s been through some tough stuff. He’s strong now, and it’s kind of because of Kurt. Even if he can’t really believe it sometimes, he knows all of the wonderful things Kurt says about him are true. And that those things are what make Kurt love him.

And none of those things are his age. He can’t believe that Kurt is in this with him because he’s a young piece of ass – he probably has that being thrown at him all the time. No, Kurt loves him because he’s _beautiful,_ and _bright._

He’s only eighteen, but Kurt can see passed his age and get to know him and find those wonderful things about him, and bestow upon him the gift of his love, in the end, if you’re loved and happy, what else matters? Certainly not the approval of others, not those who aren’t even interested in trying to look past the controversial and find the good.

“Okay, yeah…” He says, “So, what’s new with you? I want all the gossip.”

\---

It’s nearing morning when Kurt gets home. Blaine’s nearly asleep when he hears first the front, then the bedroom door open. Kurt slips into bed and wraps his arms around Blaine from behind, smelling fresh and happy, like the crisp New York air.

Blaine turns over and presses his face into Kurt’s shoulder, lays a tender kiss there and closes his eyes to drift back to sleep.

\---

Ohio is slow and restrictive, muddled and boring compared to New York City.

And Blaine knows that it’s always been slow and restrictive, but when he steps off that plane from the brightest, most exuberant city in the world, he can’t help but think that he won’t be here for very much longer.

\---

Blaine doesn’t tell his parents where he’s applying. He won’t let their disapproval hold him back, not this time. Kurt gets him the applications and he fills each of them out at Kurt’s kitchen table, with Kurt always there in the house to support him.

It’s when he does this that Blaine really feels like the luckiest guy in the world. He somehow got, without Blaine even saying, that he needed him _there,_ but not _right_ there, hovering and smothering. He somehow knew that all it takes is a kiss to keep him from going utterly insane. And he knows when to push, when not to push, all before Blaine even knows.

And yeah, Blaine gets worried. He gets really worried about a lot of things ( _what if my parents don’t let me go what if Kurt doesn’t want me anymore what if what if what if_ ) but for once he manages to push back uncalled for worries and focuses on himself and his needs and Kurt, Kurt who’s singing from the bathroom as he cleans.

\---

“Come watch us practice…please?”

Blaine is reluctant, of course he is. The thought of McKinley High makes his skin ache, too many memories stirring awake at just the thought of the tan colored lockers and crowded hallways.

But he misses his friends. And they apparently miss him too, because once word gets out that Blaine is no longer MIA he suddenly has call after call, friend after friend demanding his presence and the feeling of being _missed_ is actually a wonderful one. To know that someone cares enough to cry tears of joy when they find out he’s okay (Marley) or to threaten him with friendly bodily harm if he ever disappears like that again (Kitty) or ask him if he got the latest Black Ops because it’s _badass,_ man (Sam and Jake and Ryder).

That anyone cares at all is a great feeling.

Besides, the worst has already been done. He thinks that he can take on the world now, especially with Kurt by his side, solid and caring and loving.

And it’s with that resolve that he finds himself walking through the doors to the auditorium, laughing and covering his ears when choruses of ungodly shrieks explode and echo as his presence becomes known.

The hugs and kisses he receives are warm and welcoming, just like a home coming should be. He can’t really answer all of their questions but plenty of them don’t even require an answer, just excited yells and exclamation marks.

When it all finally dies down and all the tears are gone, they sit him down in the first row of the auditorium and sing to him in true New Directions style.

(“ _Go ahead and close the door. I’ll stand outside in the rain.; A little bird just told me. So, it’s time to start over again.; So I’ll man up and take this boat, far away from these shores, and I’ll reach behind an enemy light, and find my terrible cure.”_ Lyrics that make him tear up a little and crack up at the irony of the band they choose, lyrics that make him happy because he thinks that his friends still really know him, even when they should’ve forgotten him. Even when he maybe deserved to be forgotten.)

It’s fun and it’s wonderful and seeing your friends can never be bad for the heart, can it?

It comes to a heavyhearted end too early when he gets a text from Kurt saying he’s outside, and Blaine kind of regrets telling him such an early time, but how was he supposed to know it would be so easy to fall back into place?

He stands up and shoulders his bag, sighs out, “I have to go guys…My ride’s here, and I don’t want to keep him waiting.”

Tina gasps from where she’s still sitting, clutching his hand tightly with wide eyes. “Is it your boyfriend? Is it Kurt? Is he here? Let me meet him!”

The room is in agreement and then suddenly he’s being moved out of the classroom in a wave, a constant stream of chattering around him as they shuffle him to the parking lot.

It all comes to a halt though, when a voice yells out, jeering, laced with a teasing malice Blaine knows well, “Oh, look, Anderson’s back in town. Thought Joshua ran you out, huh? Didn’t do a good enough job, knocking the fucking fag – “

Blaine is choking, the words hitting him with a magnificent force, making him sway on his feet. It’s not one of the people who hurt him, but the taunts might as well be coming from the same face, the same body, the hits might as well be from the same fists, the _hate_ might as well be the same, and he’s falling, his knees buckling and his body sagging back into the arms of Sam who gasps worriedly.

He practices deep breaths as his friends start yelling around him, and the boy just spews out more hateful horrible things and Blaine squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his fists.

_You’ll be alright, you’ll be alright_ , he tells himself, and it’s almost working when he hears a forceful, “ _Hey_!”

The voice sounds like a blessing, right then. He opens his eyes to see Kurt striding towards them purposefully; his face set in anger and Blaine thinks, _Oh no._

“I don’t know _what_ you think you are, but I _suggest_ – “ Kurt says darkly, not raising his voice but not letting his eyes leave the jock who looks like he’s about to back down.

“Kurt,” His voice is weak, he knows, and Kurt doesn’t hear him, or maybe he does and chooses to ignore him. Both options sting a little bit.

“I _suggest_ you scrape your dignity of the floor and get away from Blaine and his friends before I find myself tearing this damn school apart –“

“Kurt!” He tries to say it a little louder now but his throat is dry and it’s just a strangled croak now. Sam rubs his back gently, and Blaine shrugs it off, hating how helpless he feels. He can’t even take a couple of _taunts_ without breaking down, how pathetic. And he’d thought he was getting better. Bullshit.

“ -- and make sure you spend time in juvie with your scumbag friends.” Kurt finishes, his arms tense where they’re crossed across his chest, stance defensive.

The jock scoffs. “Whatever. All these fucking faggots, man.” He says it as he’s hurrying past Kurt and Kurt can’t do much but scowl at him as he gets out of there.

Blaine watches Kurt pinch the bridge of his nose. He mouths out one through ten with patience, and Blaine puts a hand on his back when he’s at five.

Kurt looks up at ten and frowns, pulls him close and leans down to whisper so his friends don’t hear. “Are you okay? What do you need? Can I give you anything? Anything at all.” Blaine feels a hand run down his back and to the sensitive lower area of his back, resting there possessively, pressing him a bit closer.  

Blaine shakes his head and squeezes Kurt’s shoulder. “You didn’t have to do that.” He says, whispering. He knows that all of his friends are still there, eyes glued to him and Kurt as they share their moment and Blaine wishes he could shake them off. This is for him and Kurt only.

“Yes, I did, Blaine,” Kurt says, brushing at Blaine’s shoulder blades with his other wandering hand.

“No, you really didn’t,” Blaine says, frowning and pulling back. Why doesn’t anyone ever listen to him? “I can handle myself.”

“When I walked in you were about to _faint_ , Blaine. I need to take care of you.”

“I was going to be _fine_ , and I don’t need you watching over me like some type of watch dog. I have enough policing at home; I don’t need it from my boyfriend too. And you shouldn’t have to take care of me. Shouldn’t even want to.” Blaine huffs out, crossing his arms insecurely. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he knows how this is going to end and he thinks that, right now he craves it. Craves being able to give himself over, knows that he’ll feel better in the end.

He looks up to see Kurt’s eyes dark, his jaw clenched tight. He nods slowly, brings the hand around from his back and to his hand, tugs him along with determination.

Blaine looks over his shoulder and waves, tries to smile. “You guys can call me tomorrow. We’ll go bowling!”

They try to smile too, wiggling their fingers in reply.

\--

“Why am I punishing you, Blaine?”

They had gotten home and Kurt had immediately demanded he strip and kneel for him on the bed. Kurt had then cuffed his hands to the bedposts gently, kissed his wrists wrapped in the soft leather and then disappeared into his closet for a moment, leaving Blaine shivering in anticipation on his knees.

“Because I talked back to you, Sir,” Blaine says, and winces at the cold touch of Kurt’s fingers, kneading and pulling at his ass.

“Why am I punishing you, Blaine?”

“Because I questioned your authority, Sir.”

“Stop avoiding my question, Blaine. While those are reasons, yes, why am I _really_ punishing you? Be honest this time, or it’ll be worse than what I’m already planning.”

“Because…because I doubted you.”

“Doubted what?”

“Doubted your will to care for me, doubted your status as a Dominant, doubted you, doubted your position in this relationship, doubted you, doubted us. I’m so sorry, Sir. So sorry.” Blaine pants, fingers clenching and unclenching. Kurt slides up his body and around to his front, settling his cock directly in front of Blaine’s lips with Blaine’s hands caught on either side of his waist. At this angle Blaine’s ass is perched delicately in the air, and Kurt rubs at a cheek again.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, sweetheart: I’m going to paddle you, twenty-five times as you take me deep into your throat. I know you can take them all. You don’t have to count, and you’re going to go at the pace _I_ set. Focus on _me_ , focus on who is right here in front of you and so in love with you. Focus on who’s paddling your sweet ass, focus on who can make you burn, Blaine. Focus on who _owns_ you.”

Blaine nods, and then Kurt is sinking a hand into his curls, fingers wrapping at the base and guiding his lips down to his cock. Blaine opens his mouth immediately, and closes his eyes as Kurt guides him.

Blaine loses himself in it, swirling his tongue in the places he has learned does it for Kurt. The first hit is unexpected and barely there, just a pat that makes Blaine twitch in surprise.  The next three are harder, moving up and down on the same cheek. Kurt lands another one on his crack, and then another and another. Blaine is gasping through his nose with each hit, nearly choking when Kurt drops two hard ones at the top of his ass, grazing the sensitive area of his back.

Kurt stops after ten and massages at Blaine’s cheeks and thighs, murmuring in his ear. “You’re doing well, Blaine. Very well. Fifteen more to go. You can do it.”

The paddling resumes and Blaine sucks hard at Kurt’s cock, letting Kurt buck into his mouth as he lands hits to the fragile skin of his cuts on his thighs. Blaine jerks, feeling utterly dominated. Kurt doesn’t stay in one place for long, rotating all over Blaine’s thighs and butt cheeks, even letting some gently hit the low, sensitive arch of his back.

Blaine feels absolute euphoria washing over him. The need to come was just getting to unbearable but the pain is pushed back in order to make room for this _safe_ feeling that encases him. He does feel safe, and he also feels loved, trapped between Kurt’s legs and getting his ass paddled. He’s in strong hands, _Kurt’s_ hands, hands that are wrecking and rebuilding his body from scratch, all at the same time. Blaine’s ass is burning and aching, but Kurt stops at twenty and soothes him again, whispering gasping words of praise in his ear again.

“Only five more to go, beautiful. You’ve been taking everything so well, you’re almost done.”

The next five are scattered and hard, making Blaine yell, a wretched, gargled noise around Kurt’s cock with each one.

Kurt drops the paddle and starts fucking into Blaine’s mouth harder, reaching his orgasm quickly. Kurt pants, massaging Blaine’s scalp gently. He unlocks the handcuffs and Blaine slumps to the bed, making sure to stay on his front. Kurt comes back to find Blaine clenching the sheets, restraining against working his hips to the bed.

“Please, Sir, please, can I come now? _Please_.”

Kurt chuckles and says, “Back up to your knees, for just a little. I’m going to get you off, baby.”

Blaine obeys, drawing up energy to raise himself to his knees with his face still pressed to the pillows.

“God, look at you,” Kurt says, uncapping the bruising cream. “You make such a gorgeous sight, darling. Ass up in the air, begging me to take care of you, in all the ways I know you love. All the ways I know you need.”

Blaine mumbles, tries to say, “Thank you Sir,” but then Kurt is rubbing the cream to his ass, and, yeah, that feels amazing. Blaine groans, pushing against the gentle hands as Kurt brings one down beneath Blaine to wrap around his cock.

“Come whenever you want, darling,” Kurt says, using a hand to massage some cream into Blaine’s lower back. “You did so well for me, all is forgiven, now. All is forgiven.”

Blaine comes then, crying out into the pillows and then slumping to the bedspread, his come cooling underneath him. Kurt grimaces, tugging the sheet from beneath Blaine and wiping him off before sliding in next to him gently, trying to not jostle his legs.

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

“All is forgiven, darling.”

\---

Blaine wakes up to the smell of strawberry pancakes again, and the nostalgia is nearly overwhelming. He slides on a pair of boxers and finds Kurt setting the plates on the kitchen island, where the stools are.

Blaine smiles and reaches up to kiss Kurt when he’s close enough. He feels good, even if his ass is sore and the words from that jock maybe still plays on loop in his mind. But they aren’t really affecting him anymore, and he has Kurt to thank for that. He kisses Kurt passionately -- pressing him against the counter as he devours Kurt’s mouth, loving the way Kurt smiles and threads his fingers through his hair.

“So you’re feeling well, then? Last night was okay?” Kurt says when they break the kiss, hands at Blaine’s waist and resting there like they belong there.

“Just what I needed,” Blaine smiles.

\---

Blaine doesn’t spend a lot of time at home now, and when he does he definitely doesn’t spend too long chatting with his parents. They don’t talk about his college plans and Blaine assumes it’s because his parents assume _he_ applies to Columbus, and the thought makes Blaine sick.

He’s going to figure out a way to tell them, has to figure out a way to break his mother’s heart and disappoint his father again.

But it’s a surprise when he comes home from Dalton one day, toes off his shoes and walks into his kitchen to see his mother sitting there, staring at a rather large envelope in her hand, tears falling down her cheeks.

Blaine hesitates. “Mom?”

She looks up, smoothes back her hair. She smiles shakily, reaches out a hand for Blaine. “Hey sweetie,” She pulls him close as he says it, wraps an arm around his shoulders when he sits down. He can smell her perfume, and he lets himself inhale, let’s himself breathe in the motherly scent he hasn’t had the pleasure of smelling in a long time.

“This, um. This came in the mail for you, today,” She looks up, her eyes red-rimmed and Blaine thinks that they’ve never looked more alike. He has her curly hair, has her hazel eyes and cheekbones. His mother is beautiful and he loves his mom, and he hates to think that he might never see her again.

“It’s pretty large…from a college in New York, Blaine,” She says, her voice shaking as she squeezes Blaine’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry mom,” Blaine whispers, can’t even feel joy at the fact that he probably got into his dream school of NYADA. Because he won’t have a mom pretty soon.

But then again, he hasn’t really had a mom in a long time, has he?

“No, really, it’s _fine_ ,” She looks away, shakes her head. “It scares me to see you go.”

She looks back at him, rubs up and down his shoulder. “You’re my baby, Blaine. And you’ve been so hurt…” Her eyes are conveying a deep sincerity, and Blaine thinks that he must get his prone-to-be-heartbroken-gene from her.

“Ohio won’t help me, mom…staying here can only make things worse for me. For us,” He says it because it’s ultimately true – ultimately, he is the reason his family is in pieces, and he is the only obstacle to his mother being happy with his father.

“But I could protect you here…”

That’s when Blaine stands up, grips that envelope tight in his fingers as he says, tears in his eyes and a scar or two closing up, “You couldn’t before. It’s time for me to maybe protect myself. Maybe be happy.”

He trots upstairs, ignores her muffled crying. She’ll get over it, she always does. She has his father, and he may come back and visit.

Blaine bounces on his bed, biting his lip nervously. He tears open the letter and sees, in all his glory, “Mr. Blaine Anderson, we are pleased to announce that you’ve been accepted…” The information for the flutters out between his fingers, falls to his bed around his legs, large letters like, “Getting Started” and “We can’t wait to see you in the Fall.”

Blaine can barely dial the phone and choke out to the one person who makes him feel so loved he can’t breathe with it, “I got in,” – that’s how happy he finally feels.


End file.
